Their Hearts Will Go On
by Angelxoxo8
Summary: Leonardo Hamato and Amy DeWitt Bukater: two members of different social classes who fall in love on the ship RMS Titanic during its ill-fated maiden voyage. This will follow the story of the movie...the uncut version, mostly.
1. Chapter 1

**Angel: First chapter to my new story! Yaasss! So** **this is basically the story of Titanic, but with TMNT characters instead. Here is the cast:**

 **Rose DeWitt Bukater/Dawson: Amelia Smith/Hamato** **(from my TMNT series and also the female lead)**

 **Jack Dawson: Leonardo Hamato** **(male lead who Amy falls in love with)**

 **Caledon Nathan 'Cal' Hockley: Xever** **Montes (Spoiled douche who is engaged to Amy)**

 **Ruth DeWitt Bukater: Nadia Smith (Amy's widowed mother)**

 **Fabrizio De Rossi: Raphael** **(Leo's best friend)**

 **Spicer Lovejoy: Chris Bradford (the butler or bodyguard...not sure which one)**

 **Captain Smith: Splinter (Captain of Titanic)**

 **Thomas 'Tommy' Ryan: Michelangelo** **(a third class** **passenger)**

 **Brock Lovett: Donatello (treasure hunter)**

 **Lewis Bodine: Baxter Stockman (Titanic expert)**

 **Anatoly Mikailavich: Tyler Rockwell (the sub's pilot)**

 **Lizzy Calvert: Lily (Amy's granddaughter)**

 **I think that was it...if I missed someone, I'll add it to the cast later XD And I will keep some characters from the original movie. I know what some of you may be thinking. 'You never watched the movie, Angel, so how can you write it?' I've seen clips** **and I've actually seen the movie recently twice** **...also note that the turtles aren't related in this one, since Donnie's in 1996, and the others are in 1912. And...most of this story is from the uncut version, because so far, it's the closest thing I could find as to transcripts. Uncut version is better than no version...Anyway, enjoy!**

 _Wednesday, April 15th, 1996_

Two faint lights appear, close together...glowing brighter. They resolve into two deep submersibles, free-falling towards somewhere like express elevators. One is ahead of the other, and passes close enough to look like a spacecraft blazing like lights, bristling with in sectile manipulators. They descend away into the limitless blackness below. Soon they are fireflies, then stars. Then gone.

On one of the falling submersibles, called Mir One, it has occupants. Inside, it's a cramped seven-foot sphere, crammed with equipment. Tyler Rockwell, the sub's pilot, sits hunched over the controls...singing softly in Russian.

Next to him on one side is Donatello He's in his late forties, olive green skinned, and likes to wear his purple mask and goggles. He is a smart treasure hunter, a salvage superstar who is part historian, part adventurer, and part vacuum cleaner salesman. Right now, he's propped up against the CO2 scrubber, fast asleep and snoring.

On the other side, crammed into the remaining space is Baxter Stockman, who is also asleep. Baxter Stockman is a R.O.V (remotely operated vehicle) pilot and is the resident Titanic expert. Tyler glances at the bottom sonar and makes a ballast adjustment.

At the bottom of the sea, there is a pale, dead-flat landscape. It gets brighter, lit from above, as Mir One enters and drops to the seafloor in a down blast from its thrusters. It hits bottom after its two-hour free-fall with a loud BONK.

Donnie and Baxter jerk awake at the landing.

"We are here," Rockwell announces to them.

5 minutes later, the two subs skim over the seafloor to the sound of side scan sonar and the thrum of big thrusters. The featureless gray clay of the bottom unrolls in the lights of the subs. Baxter is watching the side scan sonar display, where the outline of a huge pointed object is visible. Rockwell lies prone, driving the sub, his face pressed to the center port.

"Come left a little," Stockman says, "She's right in front of us, eighteen meters. Fifteen. Thirteen...you should see it."

"Do you see it?" Rockwell asks, "I don't see it...there!"

Out of the darkness, like a ghostly apparition, the bow of the ship appears. Its knife-edge prow is coming straight towards them, seeming to plow the bottom sediment like ocean waves. It towers above the seafloor, standing just as it landed 84 years ago.

The Titanic. Or what's left of her. Mir One goes up and over the bow railing, intact except for an overgrowth of 'rusticles' draping it like mutated Spanish moss.

Tight on the eyepiece monitor of a video camcorder, Donatello's face fills the black and white frame.

"It still gets me every time."

Over Rockwell's shoulder, the bow railing is visible in the lights beyond. He turns around. "It's just your guilt because of stealing from the dead."

Donnie is operating the camera himself, turning it in his hand so it points to his own face. "Thanks, Rock. Work with me here!"

He resumes his serious, pensive gaze out the front port, with the camera aimed at himself at arm's length. "It still gets me every time...to see the sad ruin of the great ship sitting here, where she landed at 2:30 in the morning, April 15th, 1912, after her long fall from the world above."

Rockwell rolls his eyes, muttering in Russian. Stockman chuckles and watches the sonar.

"You're so full of shell, boss."

Mir Two drives down the starboard side, past the huge anchor while Mir One passes over the seemingly forecastle deck, with its massive anchor chains still laid out in two neat rows, its bronze windlass caps gleaming. The 22 foot long subs are like white bugs next to the enormous wreck.

"Dive nine. Here we are again on the deck of Titanic...two and a half miles down. The pressure is three tons per square inch, enough to crush us like a freight train going over an ant if our hull fails. These windows are nine inches thick and if they go, it's sayonara in two microseconds," Donnie says to the camera.

Mir Two lands on the boat deck, next to the ruins of the officer's quarters. Mir One lands on the roof of the deck house nearby.

"Right. Let's go to work."

Stockman slips on a pair of 3-D electronic goggles, and grabs the joystick controls of the ROV. Outside the sub, the ROV, a small orange and black robot called Metalhead, lifts from its cradle and flies forward. "Walking the dog."

Metalhead drives itself away from the sub, paying out its umbilical behind like a robot yo-yo. Its twin stereo-video cameras swivel like insect eyes. The ROV descends through an open shaft that once was the beautiful First Class Grand Staircase.

Metalhead goes down several decks, then moves laterally into the First Class Reception Room.

Metalhead moves through the cavernous interior. The remains of the ornate hand carved woodwork which gave the ship its elegance move through the floodlights, the lines blurred by slow dissolution and descending rusticle formations. Stalactites of rust hang down so that at times it looks like a natural grotto, then it shifts and the lines of a ghostly undersea mansion can be seen.

Metal passes the ghostly images of Titanic's opulence: A grand piano in amazingly good shape, crashed onto its side against a wall. The keys gleam black and white in the light. A chandelier, still hanging from the ceiling by its wire, glinting as Snoop moves around it. Its lights play across the floor, revealing a champagne bottle, then some white star line china...a woman's high-top granny shoe. Then something eerie: what looks like a child's skull resolves into the porcelain head of a doll.

Metal enters a corridor which is much better preserved. Here and there a door still hangs on its rusted hinges. An ornate piece of molding, a wall sconce...a hint at the grandeur of the past.

The ROV turns and goes through a black doorway, entering room B-52, the sitting room of a 'promenade suite,' one of the most luxurious staterooms on Titanic.

"I'm in the sitting room. Heading for bedroom B-54," Stockman reports.

"Stay off the floor. Don't stir it up like you did yesterday," Donnie warns.

"I'm trying, boss," Stockman answers in slight annoyance.

Glinting in the lights are the brass fixtures of the near-perfectly preserved fireplace. An albino Galathea crab crawls over it. Nearby are the remains of a divan and a writing desk. Metalhead crosses the ruins of the once elegant room toward another door. It squeezes through the doorframe, scraping rust and wood chunks loose on both sides. It moves out of a cloud of rust and keeps on going.

"I'm crossing the bedroom," Stockman explains.

What's left is the remains of a pillared canopy bed, broken chairs, and a dresser. Through the collapsed wall of the bathroom, the porcelain commode and bathtub look almost new, gleaming in the dark.

"Okay, I want to see what's under that wardrobe door," Donnie demands.

The ROV deploys its manipulator arms and starts moving debris aside. A lamp is lifted, its ceramic colors as bright as they were in 1912.

"Easy, Stockman. Take it slow," Donnie tells him.

Stockman grips a wardrobe door, lying it at an angle in a corner, and pulls it with Metal's gripper. It moves reluctantly in a cloud of silt. Under it is a dark object. The silt clears and Metal's cameras show them what was under the door...

"Ooohh daddy-oh, are you seein' what I'm seein'?" Stockman asks.

Donnie watches his monitors and by his expression, it's like he's seeing the Holy Grail. "Oh baby baby baby," he grabs the mike, "It's payday, boys!"

The object of their quest? A small steel combination safe.

* * *

Out on the stern of the dock of Keldysh that day, the safe, which is dripping wet in the afternoon sun, is lowered onto the deck of a ship by a winch cable. They're on the Russian research vessel Akademik Mistislav Keldysh. A crowd has gathered around, including most of the crew of Keldysh, the sub crews, and a hand-wringing money guy named Casey Jones, who represents the limited partners (aka Bobby Buell). There is also a documentary video crew, hired by Stockman to cover his moment of glory.

Everyone crowds around the safe. In the background Mir Two is being lowered into its cradle on deck by a massive hydraulic arm. Mir One is already recovered with Stockman following Donatello as he bounds over to the safe like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Who's the best? Say it," he says proudly.

"You are, Stockman," Donnie turns to the camera crew. "You rolling?"

"Rolling."

Donnie nods to his technicians, and they set about drilling the safe's hinges. During this operation, Donnie amps up the suspense, working the lens to fill the time.

"Well, here it is, the moment of truth. Here's where we find out if the time, the sweat, the money spent to charter this ship and these subs, to come out here to the middle of the North Atlantic...were worth it. If we think is in that same...is in that safe...it will be."

Donnie grins wolfishly in anticipation of his greatest find yet. The door is pried loose. It clangs onto the deck. Stockman moves closer, peering into the safe's wet interior. A long moment then...his face says it all.

"Shell."

"You know, boss, this happened to Geraldo and his career never recovered," Baxter inputs.

Donnie turns to the video cameraman. "Get that outta my face."

* * *

In the lab deck, the preservation room, technicians are carefully removing some papers from the safe and placing them in a tray of water to separate them safely. Nearby, other artifacts from the stateroom are being washed and preserved.

Jones is on the satellite phone with the investors. Donnie is yelling at the video crew.

"You send out what I tell you when I tell you. I'm signing your paychecks, not 60 minutes. Now get set up for the uplink."

Jones covers the phone and turns to Donnie.

"Partners wanna know how it's going?"

"How it's going? It's going like a first date in prison, whattaya think?!" Donnie snaps, grabbing the phone from Jones and goes instantly smooth. "Hi, Dave? Barry? Look, it wasn't in the safe...no, look, don't worry about it, there're still plenty of places it could be...in the floor debris in the suite, in the mother's room, in the pursuer's safe on C deck..."

He suddenly sees something. "Hang on a second."

A tech coaxes some letters in the water tray to one side with a tong...revealing a pencil (conte crayon) drawing of a woman.

Donnie looks closely at the drawing, which is in excellent shape, though its edges have partially disintegrated. The woman is beautiful, and beautifully rendered. In her late teens or early twenties, she is nude, though posed with a kind of casual modesty. She is on an Empire divan, in a pool of light that seems to radiate outward from her eyes. Scrawled in the lower right corner is the date: April 14th, 1912. And the initials LH. The girl is not entirely nude. At her throat is a diamond necklace with a large stone hanging in the center.

Donnie grabs a reference photo from the clutter on the lab table. It is a period black-and-white photo of a diamond necklace on a black velvet jeweler's display stand. He holds it next to the drawing. It is clearly the same piece...a complex setting with a massive central stone which is almost heart-shaped.

"I'll be God damned."

* * *

A CNN news story is having a live satellite feed from the deck of the Keldysh, intercut with the CNN studio. "Treasure hunter Donatello is best known for finding Spanish gold in sunken galleons in the Carribean. Now he is using deep submergence technology to work two and a half miles down at another famous wreck...the Titanic. He is with us live via satellite from a Russian research ship in the middle of the Atlantic...hello Donnie?"

"Yes, hi, April. You know, Titanic is not just a shipwreck, Titanic is THE shipwreck. It's the Mount Everest of shipwrecks."

In a ceramics studio, the CNN report is playing on a TV set in the living room of a small rustic house. It is full of ceramics, figurines, folk art, the walls crammed with drawings and paintings...things collected over a lifetime.

There's a glassed-in studio attached to the house. Outside it is a quiet morning in Ojai, California. In the studio, amid incredible clutter, an ancient woman is throwing a pot on a potter's wheel. The liquid red clay covers her hands...hands that are gnarled and age-spotted, but still surprisingly strong and supple. A woman in her early forties assists her. She has blonde hair and blue eyes.

"I've planned this expedition for three years, and we're out here recovering some amazing things...things that will enormous historical and educational value," Donnie explains.

"But it's no secret that education is not their main purpose. You're a treasure hunter. So what is the treasure you're hunting?" April says.

"I'd rather show you than tell you, and we think we're very close to doing that," Donnie answers.

The old woman's name is Amy Miller. Her face is a wrinkled mess, her body shapeless and shrunken under a one-piece African print dress. Her hair is pure white. But her eyes are just as bright and alive as those of a young girl. Amy gets up and walks into the living room, wiping pottery clay from her hands with a rag. A Pomeranian dog gets up and comes in with her. The younger woman, Lily Miller, rushes to help her.

"Turn that up please, dear," Amy tells her granddaughter and she does as told.

"Your expedition is at the center of a storm of controversy over salvage rights and even ethics. Many are calling you a grave robber," April explains.

"Nobody called the recovery of the artifacts from King Tut's tomb grave robbing. I have museum-trained experts here, making sure this stuff is preserved and catalogued properly. Look at this drawing, which was found today..."

The video camera moves off Donnie to the drawing, in a tray of water. The image of the woman with the necklace is seen.

"...A piece of paper that's been underwater for 84 years...and my team are able to preserve it intact. Should this have remained unseen at the bottom of the ocean for eternity, when we can see it and enjoy it now...?"

Amy is galvanized by this image. Her mouth hangs open in amazement.

"I'll be God damned."

* * *

Back at Keldysh, the Mir subs are being launched. Mir Two is already in the water, and Donnie is getting ready to climb into Mir One when Casey Jones runs up to him.

"There's a satellite call for you."

"Casey, we're launching. See these submersibles here, going in the water? Take a message," Donnie retorts.

"No, trust me, you want to take this call," Casey insists.

In the lab deck at night, Jones hands Donatello the phone, pushing down the blinking line. The call is from Amy, who is in her kitchen with a mystified Lily.

"This is Donatello. What can I do for you, Mrs...?"

"Amy Miller."

"...Mrs. Miller?"

"I was just wondering if you had found the 'Heart of the Ocean' yet, Mr. Donatello," she replies.

Donnie almost drops the phone. Casey sees his shocked expression.

"I told you you wanted to take this call."

Donnie paused. He knew that the old woman on the other end of the phone knew something. "Alright. You have my attention, Amy. Can you tell me who the woman in the picture is...?"

"Oh yes. The woman in the picture is me."

* * *

The next day, an enormous sea stallion helicopter is thundering across the ocean. There is no land at either horizon. The Keldysh is visible in the distance. One of the windows has Amy's face visible, looking out calmly.

Donnie and Baxter are watching Mir 2 being swung over the side to start a dive.

"She's a goddamned liar!" Baxter exclaims, "A nutcase. Like that...what's her name? That Anastasia girl."

"They're inbound," Jones reports.

Donnie nods and the three of them head forward to meet the approaching helicopter.

"She says she's Amy DeWitt Bukater, right? Amy DeWitt Bukater died on the Titanic. At the age of 17. If she'd lived, she'd be over a hundred now," Baxter argues.

"A hundred and one next month," Donnie corrects.

"Okay, so she's a very old goddamned liar. I traced her as far back as the 20's...she was working as an actress in L.A. An actress. Her name was Amy Hamato. Then she married a guy named Miller, moved to Cedar Rapids, had two kids. Now Miller's dead, and from what I've heard, Cedar Rapids is dead," Baxter emphasizes.

The Sea Stallion approaches the ship, forcing Donnie to yell over the rotors.

"And everybody who knows about the diamond is supposed to be dead...or on this ship. But she knows about it. And I want to hear what she has to say. Got it?"

Amy had never been in a helicopter, and was quite tense after overhearing of the air collision on the news. Lily came with her on the journey, both worried about her health and intrigued about her knowledge about the Titanic. In a thundering down blast, the helicopter's wheels bounce down on the helipad. Baxter, Donnie, and Jones watch as the helicopter crew chief hands out about ten suitcases, and then Amy is lowered to the deck in a wheelchair by Keldysh crewmen. Lily, ducking unnecessarily under the rotor, follows her out, carrying Om Nom the Pomeranian. The crew chief hands a puzzled Keldysh crewmember a goldfish bowl with several fish in it. Amy does not travel light.

Speaking of, she looks impossibly fragile amongst all of the high tech gear, grungy deck crew, and gigantic equipment.

"S'cuse me, I have to go check our supply of depends," Baxter deadpans.

* * *

In Amy's stateroom, Lily is unpacking Amy's things in the small utilitarian room. Amy is packing a number of framed photos on the bureau, arranging them carefully next to the fishbowl. Donnie and Baxter are in the doorway.

"Is your stateroom alright?" Donnie asks.

"Yes. Very nice," Amy answers, "Have you met my granddaughter, Lily? She takes care of me."

"Yes. We met just a few minutes ago, grandma. Remember, up on deck?" Lily reminds her.

"Oh, yes," Amy realizes.

Donnie glances at Stockman, who rolls his eyes. Amy finishes arranging her photographs. They're the usual snapshots: children and grandchildren, her late husband.

"There, that's nice. I have to have my pictures when I travel. And Om Nom of course," Amy says, turning to the Pomeranian. "Isn't that right, sweetie?"

"Would you like anything?" Donnie offers.

"I should like to see my drawing," Amy explains.

* * *

In the preservation room of the lab deck, Amy looks at the drawing in its tray of water, confronting herself across a span of 84 years. Until they can figure the best way to preserve it, they have to keep it immersed. It sways and ripples, almost as if alive.

Amy's ancient eyes gaze at the drawing.

 _A three-fingered hand held the conte_ _crayon deftly creating a shoulder and the shape of her hair with two efficient lines._

The woman's face is dancing in the water.

 _A turtle's sapphire blue eyes were just visible over the top of a sketching pad. They looked up suddenly right at her. Soft eyes, but fearlessly direct._

Amy smiles, remembering. Donnie has the reference photo of the necklace in his hand.

"Louis the Sixteenth wore a fabulous stone, called the Blue Diamond of the Crown, which disappeared in 1792, about the time Louis lost everything from the neck up. The theory goes that the crown diamond was chopped too...recut into a heart-like shape...and it became Le Coeur de la Mer. The Heart of the Ocean. Today it would be worth more than the Hope Diamond."

"It was a dreadful, heavy thing," Amy says, pointing to the painting. "I only wore this once."

"You actually believe this is you, Grandma?" Lily questions.

"It is me, dear. Wasn't I a hot number?" Amy confirms.

"I tracked it down through insurance records...and old claim that was settled under terms of absolute secrecy. Do you know who that claimant was, Amy?" Donnie explains. The old woman nods.

"Someone named Montes, I could imagine," Amy murmurs.

Stockman and Donnie share a hopeful nod, knowing that this was indeed Amy DeWitt Bukater.

"Jose Montes, right. Pittsburgh steel tycoon. For a diamond necklace his son Xever Montes bought in France for his fiancee...you...a week before he sailed on Titanic. And the claim was filed right after the sinking. So the diamond had to've gone down with the ship," Donnie realizes, turning to Lily. "See the date?"

"April 14th, 1912," Lily reads.

"If your grandma is who she says she is, she was wearing the diamond the day Titanic sank." He turns to Amy. "And that makes you my new best friend. I will happily compensate you for anything you can tell us that will lead to its recovery."

"I don't want your money, Mr. Donatello. I know how hard it is for people who care greatly for money to give some away," Amy waves off his offer.

Baxter looks skeptical. "You don't want anything?"

"You may give me this, if anything I tell you is of value," Amy gestures to the painting.

"Deal," Donnie tells her, crossing the room. "Over here are a few things we've recovered from your staterooms."

Laid out on a worktable are fifty or so objects, from mundane to valuable. Amy, shrunken in her chair, can barely see over the table top. With a trembling hand she lifts a tortoise shell hand mirror, inlaid with mother of pearl. She caresses it wonderingly.

"This was mine. How extraordinary! It looks the same as the last time I saw it." She turns the mirror over and looks at her ancient face in the cracked glass.

"The reflection has changed a bit."

She spies something else, a sliver and moonstone art-nouveau brooch.

"My mother's brooch. She wanted to go back for it. Caused quite a fuss."

Amy picks up an ornate art-nouveau hair comb. A jade butterfly takes flight on the ebony handle of the comb. She turns it slowly, remembering. Amy is experiencing a rush of images and emotions that have lain dormant for eight decades as she handles the butterfly comb.

"Are you ready to go back to Titanic?" Donnie questions softly. Amy nods and Lily wheels her to the imaging room.

* * *

The imaging shack is a darkened room lined with TV monitors. Images of the wreck fill the screens, fled from Mir One and Two, and the two ROVS, Metalhead and Timothy.

"Live from 12,000 feet," Stockman explains.

Amy stares raptly at the screens. She is enthralled by one in particular, an image of the bow railing. It obviously means something to her. Donnie is studying her reactions carefully.

"The bow's struck in the bottom like an axe, from the impact. Here...I can run a simulation we worked up from this monitor over here," Stockman says. Lily turns the chair so Amy can see the screen of Stockman's computer. As he is calling up the file, he keeps talking. "We've put together the world's largest database on the Titanic. Okay, here..."

"Amy might not want to see this, Baxter," Donnie warns.

"No, no. It's fine. I'm curious," Amy assures.

Stockman starts a computer animated graphic on the screen, which parallels his rapid-fire narration.

"She hits the berg on the starboard side and it sort of bumps along...punching holes like a morse code...dit dit dit, down the side. Now she's flooding in the forward compartments...and the water spills over the tops of the bulkheads, going aft. As her bow is going down, her stern is coming up...slow at first...and then faster and faster until it's lifting all that weight, maybe 20 or 30 thousand tons...out of the water and the hull can't deal...so SKRTTT!" He makes a sound in time with the animation. "...It splits! Right down to the keel, which acts like a big hinge. Now the bow swings down and the stern falls back level...but the weight of the bow pulls the stern up vertical, and then the bow section detaches, heading for the bottom. The stern bobs like a cork, floods and goes under about 2:20 am. Two hours and forty minutes after the collision."

The animation then follows the bow section as it sinks. Amy watches this clinical dissection of the disaster without emotion.

"The bow pulls out of its dive and planes away, almost a half a mile, before it hits the bottom going maybe 12 miles an hour. KABOOM!"

The bow impacts, digging deeply into the bottom, the animation now following the stern.

"The stern implodes as it sinks, from the pressure, and rips apart from the force of the current as it falls, landing like a big pile of junk," he indicates to the simulation. "Cool, huh?"

"Thank you for that fine forensic analysis, Mr. Stockman. Of course the experience of it was somewhat less clinical," Amy tells him.

"Will you share it with us?" Donnie suggests.

Her eyes go back to the screen, showing the sad ruins far below them. One of the subs is tracking slowly over the boat deck. Amy recognizes one of the Wellin davits, still in place. She hears ghostly waltz music. And also the faint and echoing sound of an officer's voice, English accented, calling 'Women and children only.'

 _Screaming faces were in a running crowd, pandemonium and terror everywhere. People were crying, praying, and kneeling on the deck. Just impressions...flashes in the dark._

Amy looks at another monitor. Metalhead is moving down a rusted, debris-filled corridor. She watches the endless row of doorways sliding past, like dark mouths.

 _A child, three years old, standing ankle deep in water in the middle of an endless corridor, was lost alone, crying._

Amy is shaken by the flood of memories and emotions. Her eyes well up and she puts her head down, sobbing quietly.

Lily takes the wheelchair. "I'm taking her to rest."

"No!"

Amy's voice is surprisingly strong. The sweet little old lady is gone, replaced by a woman with eyes of steel. Donnie signals everyone to be quiet.

"Tell us, Amy."

She looks from screen to screen at the images of the ruined ship.

"It's been 84 years..."

"Just tell us what you can-"

Amy holds up her hand for silence. "It's been 84 years...and I can still smell the first paint. The china had never been used. The sheets had never been slept in."

Donnie switches on the minirecorder, setting it near her.

"Titanic was called the Ship of Dreams. And it was. It really was..."

As the underwater camera rises past the rusted bow rail, we go back to that very same railing in 1912...


	2. Chapter 2

_Wednesday, April 10_ _th_ _, 1912_

 _Southampton England, Berth 44_

There stood the ship of dreams, towering over the crowd of people there to see her off on her maiden voyage. People were getting ready to board in their respective areas of first class, second class, and third class or steerage. A glorious reveal as the gleaming white superstructure of Titanic rose mountainously beyond the rail, and above that the buff-colored funnels stood against the sky like the pillars of a great temple. Crewmen moved across the deck, dwarfed by the awesome scale of the steamer.

It was almost noon on ailing day as large crowds of people gathered at the docks to stare and be amazed at the largest man-made structure in the world. A gorgeous burgundy Renault touring car swung by, hanging from a loading crane. It was lowered toward hatch 2. People cheered and yelled as passengers of various classes and ethnicities made their way to board the Titanic, while others waved to passengers that have already boarded. Cars and even horse carriages came to bring in famous people who would be boarding what some call the Millionaires Special, since these people had immense wealth and status. But the shipping company was targeting the immigration trade and those in the lower class, these people would be looking for a better life in America, Land of Opportunity, and thus was often called the Ship of Dreams. Most of these immigrants stood in queues, waiting for their turn to board as they undergone an inspection for any infectious diseases, thus to prevent anyone from getting sick, especially the upper classes, while enjoying their trip to America and Canada.

A white Renault, leading a silver gray Daimler-Benz, pushed through the crowd leaving a wake in the press of the people. Around the handsome cars people were streaming to board the ship, jostling with hustling seamen and stokers, porters, and barking white star line officials.

The Renault stopped and the liveried driver scurried to open the door for a young woman dressed in a stunning white and purple outfit, with an enormous feathered hat. She was 17 years old and beautiful, regal of bearing, with piercing emerald eyes.

It was the girl in the drawing. Amy. She looked up at the ship, taking it in with cool appraisal, having no particular interest in the Titanic at that point.

"I don't see what the fuss is all about. It doesn't look any bigger than the Maurentania," she commented. She was standing there, staring out into space, almost as if the grand event before her was not even happening. Now it was typical for those of the upper classes to do things that were at times, outside of the norm, in order to be quote: 'avant guarde.' But this was not one of those situations. The young woman was making her party stand out, as she wasn't waving, and not in a good way.

A personal valet opened the door on the other side of the car for Xever Montes, the 30 year old heir to the elder Montes fortune. Xever was handsome, arrogant, and rich beyond meaning. She didn't particularly want to marry Xever. Her mother Nadia insisted that the two marry, kneeping money against the rich. Amy's father had taken off with his mistress, leaving her and her mother penniless.

This marriage would ensure that they would stay financially supported, due to Xever Montes promising them fortune.

"You can be blasé, about some things, Amelia, but not about Titanic. It's over a hundred feet long than the Maurentania, and far more luxurious. It has squash courts, a Parisan café...even Turkish baths," he scolded her.

Xever turned and offered his hand to Amy's mother, Nadia DeWitt Bukater, who descended from the touring car behind him. Nadia was a 40ish society empress, from one of the most prominent Philadelphia families. She was a widow and ruled her household with iron will.

"Your daughter is much hard to impress, Nadia," Xever indicated a puddle, "Watch your step."

Nadia gazed at the leviathan. "So this is the ship they say is unsinkable."

"It is unsinkable. God himself couldn't sink this ship," Xever explained.

Xever spoke with the pride of a host providing a special experience. The entire entourage of rich Americans was impeccably turned out, a quintessential example of the Edwardian upper class, complete with servants. Xever's valet, Chris Bradford, was a tall and impassive, dour as an undertaker. Two maids emerged behind him, who were personal servants to Amy and Nadia.

A white star line porter scurried towards them, harried by last minute loading.

"Sir, you'll have to check your baggage through the main terminal, round that way-"

Xever nonchalantly handed the man a fiver. The porter's eyes dilated. Five dollars was a monster tip in those days.

"I put my faith in you, good sir," he responded curtly, indicating Bradford. "See my man."

"Yes, sir. My pleasure, sir," the porter answered.

Xever never tired of the effects on money on the unwashed masses.

Bradford turned to the porter. "These trunks here, and 12 more in the Daimler. We'll have this lot up in the rooms."

The white star man looked stricken when he saw the enormous pile of steamer trunks and suitcases loading down the second car, including wooden crates and steel safe. He whistled frantically for some cargo-handlers nearby who came running.

Xever breezed on, leaving the minions to scramble. He quickly checked his pocket watch. "We'd better hurry. This way, ladies."

He indicated the way towards the first glass gangway. They moved into the crowd. Ann, Amy's maid, hustled behind them, laden with bags of her mistress's most recent purchases...things too delicate for the baggage handlers.

Xever led, weaving between vehicles and handcarts, hurrying passengers (mostly second class and steerage) and well-wishers. Most of the first class passengers were avoiding the smelly press of the dockside crowd by using an elevated boarding bridge, twenty feet above.

They passed a line of steerage passengers in their coarse wool and tweeds, queued up inside movable barriers like cattle in a chute. A health officer examined their heads one by one, checking scalp and eyelashes for lice.

They passed a well-dressed young man cranking the handle of a wooden Biograph 'cinematograph' camera mounted on a tripod. Jack Marvin (aka Jack Kurtzman), whose father founded the Biograph Film Studio, is filming his young bride in front of the Titanic. Mary Marvin stands stiffly and smiles, self conscious.

"Look up at the ship, darling, that's it. You're amazed! You can't believe how big it is! Like a mountain. That's great."

Mary Marvin, without an acting fiber in her body, does a bad Clara Bow pantomime of awe, hands raised.

Xever was jostled by two yelling steerage boys who shoved past him. And he was bumped again a second later by the boys' father.

"Steady!"

"Sorry squire!" The father called out as he pushed on after the kids, shouting.

"Steerage swine. Probably missed his annual bath," Xever spat.

"Honestly, Xever, if you weren't forever booking everything at the last instant, we could have gone through the terminal instead of running along the dock like some squalid immigrant family," Nadia said in disgust.

"All part of my charm, Nadia. At any rate, it was my darling fiancee's beauty rituals which made us late."

"You told me to change," Amy explained in slight annoyance.

"I couldn't let you wear black on sailing day, sweetpea. It's bad luck."

"I felt like black," she retorted.

Xever guided them out of the path of a horse-drawn wagon loaded with two tons of oxford marmalade, in wooden cases, for Titanic's Victualing Department.

"Here I've pulled every string I could to book us on the grandest ship in history, in her most luxurious suites...and you act as if you're going to your execution."

Amy surveyed the massive iron ship, the hull of Titanic looming over them...a great iron wall, Bible black and sever. Her heart sank as she realized that the idea of an arranged marriage was very real. Xever motioned her forward, and she entered the gangway to the D Deck doors with a sense of overwhelming dread.

* * *

 _Present_

Amy looks sadly at her granddaughter, who is eyeing her sympathetically. "It was the ship of dreams...to everyone else. To me it was a slave ship, taking me back to America in chains." Amy pauses and looks at the crew, who are anxious for more. She rubs her cold hands together and prepares to continue telling her tale.

Three different worlds...one set destiny...

The wheels of fortune were now turning, the countdown ticking, and unknowably to them the fates of over 2,200 people were now sealed.

Titanic was underway...


	3. Chapter 3

**Angel: I'm gonna update this on Saturdays to make it easier for me.**

Xever's hand closed possessively over Amy's arm. He escorted her up the gangway and the black hull of Titanic swallowed them. Amy went through it as if she was on auto pilot.

 _"Outwardly I was everything a well brought up girl should be. Inside, I was screaming."_

There was a screaming blast from the mighty triple steam horns on Titanic's funnels, bellowing their departure warning.

Out on the Southampton docks, the Titanic towered above the terminal buildings like the skyline of a city. The steamer's whistle echoed across Southampton.

* * *

From a window was the smoky inside of a pub. It was crowded with dockworkers and ship's crew. A poker game was in progress. Four men, in working class clothes, played a very serious hand.

Leonardo Hamato and Raphael, both about 20, exchanged a glance as the other two players argued in Swedish. Leonardo was American, a lanky turtle drifter with his blue mask a little long for the standards of a mask of the times. He was also unshaven, and his clothes were rumpled from sleeping in them. He was an artist, and had adopted the Bohemian style of art scenes in Paris. He was also very self-possessed and sure-footed for 20, having lived on his own since 15.

The two Swedes continue their sullen argument, in Swedish.

" 'You stupid fishhead. I can't believe you bet our tickets,' " Fong muttered.

" 'You lost our money. I'm just trying to get it back. Now shut up and take a card,' " Timothy told him.

"Hit me again, Fong," Leo said jauntily. He took the card and slipped it into his three-fingered hand. His sapphire blue eyes betrayed nothing.

Raphael, who was also a turtle himself, licked his lips nervously as he refuses a card. There was a stack in the middle of the table. Bills and coins from four countries. This had been going on for a while. Sitting on top of the money were two 3rd class tickets for RMS Titanic.

The Titanic's whistle blew again. Final warning.

"The moment of truth boys. Somebody's life is about to change," Leo told them.

Raph put his cards down. So did the Swedes. Leo held his close.

"Let's see...Raph's got niente. Fong, you've got squat. Timothy, uh oh...two pair...mmm," he turned to his friend. "Sorry Raphael."

"What da ya mean, sorry? What you got? You lost my money?! Ma va fa'n culo testa di cazzo-"

"Sorry, you're not gonna see your mama again for a long time..." He slapped a full house on the table, grinning. "Because you're goin' to America! Full house boys!"

"Shell YEEAAAAAA!" Raph cheered.

The table exploded into shouting of several languages. Leo racked in the money and the tickets. "Sorry boys. Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and..."

"...We're going to-" Raph continued.

"L'AMERICA!" The two shouted in joy. Fong balled up one huge farmer's fist. It looked like he was going to clobber Leo, but he swung round and punched Timothy, who flopped backward onto the floor and sat there, looking depressed. Fong forgot about Leo and Raph, who were dancing around, and going into a rapid harangue of his stupid cousin. Leo kissed the tickets, then jumped on Rahp's back, riding him around the pub. It was like they won the lottery.

"Going home...to the land o' the free and the home of the real hot-dogs! On the TITANIC! We're ridin' in high style now! We're practically god damned royalty, ragazzo mio!" Leo shouted happily.

"Ya see? It's my destiny! Like I told you. I'm goin' to America. To be a millionaire!" Raph turned to the pubkeeper. "Capito? I'm goin' to America!"

"No, mate. Titanic go to America. In five minutes."

Their eyes widened. "Shit! Come on, Raph!" Leo grabbed their stuff. "Come on!" He turned to the people, grinning. "It's been grand."

They ran for the door.

" 'Course I'm sure if they knew it was you lot comin', they'd be pleased to wait!"

* * *

Leo and Raph, carrying everything they owned in the world in the kit bags on their shoulders, sprinted toward the pier. They teared through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts went up behind them as they jostled slow-moving gentlemen. They dodged piles of luggage, and weave through groups of people. They burst out onto the pier and Leo came to a dead stop...staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long. The Titanic was monstrous.

Raph ran back and grabbed Leo, and they sprinted towards the third class gangway aft at E deck. They reached the bottom of the ramp just as Sixth Officer Jim (aka a police officer from the show) detached it at the top. It started to swing down from the gangway doors.

"Wait! We're passengers!" Leo yelled. Flushed and panting, he waved the tickets.

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" The officer asked.

Leo lied cheerfully, "Of course! Anyway, we don't have lice, we're Americans." He glanced at Raph. "Both of us."

"Right," the officer replied testily, "Come abroad."

Jim had Quartermaster Bill (aka another police officer) reattach the gangway. Leo and Raph came abroad. Jim glanced at the tickets, then passed Leo and Raph through to Bill. Bill looked at the names on the tickets to enter them through in the passenger list.

"Gundersen. And..." He read Raph's, "Gundersen."

He handed the tickets back, eyeing Raph's half Italian half American looks suspiciously. While mutants like them weren't uncommon, they were usually third class passengers. Leo grabbed Raph's arm. "Come on, Timothy."

Leo and Raph whooped with victory as they ran down the white-painted corridor...grinning from ear to ear.

"We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!" Leo cheered.

The mooring lines, as big around as a man's arm, were dropped into the water. A cheer went up on the pier as seven tugs pulled the Titanic away from the quay. Leo and Raph burst through a door onto the aft well deck. They ran across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They got to the rail and Leo started to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock.

"You know somebody?" Raph questioned.

"Of course not. That's not the point," Leo told him, turning to the crowd, ""Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!"

Grinning, Raph joined in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment. "Goodbye! I will never forget you!"

The crowd of cheering well-wishers waved heartily as a black wall of metal moved past them. Impossibly tiny figures waved back from the ship's rails. Titanic gathered speed.

The prow of Titanic filled behind the lead tug, which was dwarfed. The bow wave spread before the mighty plow of the liner's hull as it moved down the river test toward the English Channel.

Leo and Raph walked down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. Total confusion as people argued over luggage in several languages, or wandered in confusion in the labyrinth. They passed emigrants studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books.

They found their berth. It was a modest cubicle, painted enamel white, with four bunks. Exposed pipes overhead. The other two men were already there. Kevin and Mark Gundersen.

Leo threw his kit on one open bunk, while Raph took the other.

" 'Where is Timothy?' " Mark asked in Swedish.

* * *

By contrast, the so-called 'Millionaire Suite' is in the Empire style, and comprised of two bedrooms, a bath, WC, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there was a private 50 feet promenade deck outside.

A room service waiter poured champagne into a tulip glass of orange juice and handed the Buzz Fizz to Amy. She was looking through her new paintings. There was a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works. They were all unknown paintings...lost works. Xever had purchased them for Amy when they were a gallery auction. None of them could see why Amy was so taken by these drawings, but it pleased her nonetheless.

Xever was out on the covered deck, which had potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Amy in the sitting room.

"Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money."

Amy looked at a cubist portrait. "You're wrong. They're fascinating. Like in a dream...there's truth without logic. What's his name again...?" She read something off the canvas. "Picasso."

Xever came into the sitting room. "He'll never amount to a thing, trust me. At least they were cheap."

A porter wheeled Xever's private safe into the room on a handtruck. "Put that in the wardrobe," Xever demanded.

In the bedroom, Amy entered with the large Degas of the dancers. She set it on a dresser, near the canopy bed. Ann was already in there, hanging up some of Amy's clothes. "It smells so brand new. Like they built it all just for us. I mean...just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first-"

Xever appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, looking at Amy. "And when I crawl between the sheets, I'll still be the first."

Ann blushed at that innuendo. "S'cuse me, Miss." She edged around Xever and made a quick exit. Xever came up behind Amy and placed his hands on her shoulders. An act of possession, not intimacy.

"The first and only. Forever."

Amy's expression showed how bleak a prospect this was for her, now.

* * *

Titanic stood silhouetted against a purple post-sunset sky at Cherbourg Harbor, France. She was lit up like a floating palace, and her thousand portholes reflected in the calm harbor waters. The 150 feet tender Nomadic lied to alongside, looking like a rowboat. The lights of a Cherbourg harbor completed the postcard image.

Entering the First Class Reception from the tender were a number of prominent passengers. A broad-shouldered woman in an enormous feathered hat came up the gangway, carrying a suitcase in her hand, a spindly porter running to catch up with her to take the bags.

"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, sonny," the woman said loudly. "Take 'em the rest of the way if you think you can manage."

 _"At Cherbourg a woman came abroad named Irma Brown. History would call her the Unsinkable Irma Brown. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west, and she was what her mother called 'new money.' "_

At 45, Irma Brown was a tough talking straight shooter who dressed in the finery of her genteel peers but would never be one of them. Whilst she was certainly dressed like the rest of the people in first class, there was something different about her.

 _"By the next afternoon we had made our final stop and we were streaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing ahead of us but ocean..."_

The ship glowed with the warm creamy light of late afternoon. Leo and Raph stood right at the bow gripping the curving railing so familiar from images of the wreck. Leo leaned over, looking down fifty feet to where the prow cut the surface like a knife, sending up two glassy sheets of water.

On the bridge, Captain Splinter turned from the binnacle to First Officer Jared. "Take her to sea, Mister Jared. Let us stretch her legs."

Jared moved the engine telegraph level to all ahead full.

Now began a kind of musical/visual set piece...an ode to the great ship. The music was rhythmic, surging forward, with a soaring melody that addressed the majesty and optimism of the ship of dreams. In the engine room, the telegraph clanged and moved to all ahead full.

"All ahead full!" The chief engineer bell shouted.

On the catwalk, Slash Andrews, the shipbuilder turtle, watched carefully as the engineers and greasers scramble to adjust valves. Towering above them were the twin reciprocating engines, four stories tall, their ten-foot-long connecting rods surging up and down with the turning of the massive crankshafts. The engines thundered like the footfalls of marching giants.

In the boiler room, the stokers chanted a song as they hurled coal into the roaring furnaces. The 'black gang' were covered with sweat and coal dust, their muscles working like part of the machinery as they toiled in the hellish glow.

Underwater, the enormous bronze screws chopped through the water, hurling the steamer forward and churning up a vortex of foam that lingered for miles behind the juggernaut ship. Smoke poured from the funnels as-

The riven water flared higher at the bow as the ship's speed built. Up the prow, Leo's mask was streamed from the wind and-

Captain Splinter stepped out of the enclosed bridge onto the wing. He stood with his hands on the rail, looking every bit the storybook picture of a Captain...a great patriarch of the sea.

"Twenty one knots, sir!" First Officer Jared shouted.

"She has a bone in her teeth now, eh, Jared."

Splinter accepted a cup of tea from Fifth Officer Murakami. He contentedly watched the white V of water hurled outward from the bows like an expression of his own personal power. They were invulnerable, towering over the sea.

At the bow, Leo and Raph leaned far over, looking down.

In the glassy bow-wave two dolphins appeared, under the water, running fast just in front of the steel blade of the prow. They did it for the sheer joy and exultation of motion. Leo watched the dolphins and grinned. They breached, jumping clear of the water and then dived back, crisscrossing in front of the bow, dancing ahead of the juggernaut.

Raph looked forward across the Atlantic, staring into the subsparkles. "I can see the Statue of Liberty already," he grinned at Leo. "Very small...of course."

Over the bridge wing, along the boat deck until her funnels come and march past like the pillars of heaven, people strolled down the decks. They stood at the rail until they became ants.

And still, the great lady is seen whole in a gorgeous aerial portrait, black and severe in her majesty.

"She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history..."


	4. Chapter 4

Anton Ismay, Managing Director of White Star Line, was speaking at a table. "...And our master shipbuilder, Mr. Andrews here, designed her from the keel plates up."

He indicated Slash, a handsome 39 year old Irish gentlemen to his right, who was of Harland and Wolf Shipbuilders.

There was a group assembled for lunch the next day. Ismay was seated with Xever, Amy, Nadia, Irma Brown and Slash Andrews in the Palm Court, a beautiful sunny spot enclosed by high arched windows. Slash seemed to dislike the attention.

"Well, I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr. Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is..." He slapped the table, "Willed into solid reality."

"Why're ships always bein' called she?" Irma asked, "Is it because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" They all laughed. "Just another example of the men settin' the rules their way."

The waiter arrived to take orders. Already bored with the small talk, Amy took out a cigarette. Nadia glanced at Amy, shooting her a warning look. "You know I don't like that, Amelia."

Amy didn't pay attention to it, though and blew out smoke.

"She knows," Xever frowned, snatching the cigarette from her and stubbing it out. He never understood why she smoked and found it rather dull if anything. The waiter hurried over to take their order. "We'll both have the lamb. Rare, with a little mint sauce. You like lamb, don't you sweetpea?"

Amy grimaced but suppressed it and nodded. If there ever was a chance to question her womanhood, now would be the time. Irma was watching the dynamic between Amy, Xever, and Nadia. "So, you gonna cut her meat for her too there, Xever?" She joked, who immediately continued conversation to avoid Xever's hazardous gaze. "Hey, who thought of the name Titanic? Was it you, Anton?"

Mr. Anton Ismay grinned smugly, taking as much credit as possible. "Yes, actually. I wanted to covey sheer size. And size means stability, luxury...and safety-"

"Do you know of Dr. Falco? His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you, Mr. Ismay," Amy stated, not caring that she broke character.

Andrews chocked on his breadstick, suppressing laughter.

"My God, Amelia, what's gotten into-"

"Excuse me," Amy got up and stalked away from the dining room.

Nadia was mortified, "I do apologize."

"She's a pistol, Xever. You sure you can handle her?" Irma joked again.

Xever grew tense, but he feigned unconcerned, "Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mrs. Brown?"

"Falco? Who is he? Is he a passenger?"

* * *

Out on the poop deck, Leo sat on a bench in the sun. Titanic's wake spread out behind him to the horizon. He had his knees pulled up, supporting a leather bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession. With conte crayon he drew rapidly, using sure strokes. An emigrant from Manchester named Ivan had his 3 year old daughter Marie standing on the lower rung of the rail. She was leaned back against his beer barrel of a stomach, watching the seagulls.

The sketch captured them perfectly, with a great sense of humanity of the moment. Leo was good. Really good. Raph looked over Leo's shoulder. He nodded appreciatively.

Mikey Ryan, a scowling young Irish emigrant, watched as a crewmember came by, walking three small dogs around the deck. One of them, a black French Bulldog, was among the ugliest creatures on the planet.

"That's typical. First class dogs come down here to take a shit."

Leo looked up from his sketch. "That's so we know where we rank in the scheme of things."

"Like we could forget," Mikey muttered and offered his hand. "I'm Mikey Ryan."

"Leo Dawson," Leo said as they shook hands.

"Raph."

"Do you make any money with your drawings?" Mikey asked Leo.

Leo glanced across the well deck. At the aft railing of B deck promenade stood Amy, in a long yellow dress and white gloves.

Leo was unable to take his eyes off the woman who looked more like an angel. They were across from each other, about 60 feet apart, with the well deck like a valley between them. She on her promontory, he on his much lower one. She stared down at the water. Her magnificent brown hair was tied up in a bun, her tanned skin shone brilliantly in the light like a thousand illuminated pearls. She was beautiful, like a rose amongst daises.

He watched her unpin her elaborate hat and take it off. She looked at the frilly absurd thing, then tossed it over the rail. It sailed far down to the water and was carried away, astern. A spot of yellow in the vast ocean. She was fed up with the charade that was her life. He was riveted by her. She looked like a figure in a romance novel.

Raph tapped Mikey and they both looked at Leo gazing at Amy. Raph and Mikey grinned at each other.

He stared at her, not wanting to blink in case she disappeared. She was taking in the breeze of the ocean, and she looked sad, and lost. She looked back towards the poop deck and locked eyes with him. He was caught staring, but he didn't look away. She did, but then looked back. Their eyes met across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between worlds.

Leo saw a man (Xever) who came up behind her and took her arm. She jerked her arm away. They argued in pantomime. She stormed away and he went after her, disappearing along the A deck promenade. Leo still stared after her, even though she was gone.

"Forget it, bro. You'd as like have angels fly out o' yer arse as get next to the likes o' her," Mikey commented.

With Amy, she sat with the others in the First Class Dining Saloon, flanked by people in heated conversation. Xever and Nadia were laughing together, while on the other side Lady Duff-Gordon was holding forth animatedly. Amy was staring at her plate, barely listening to the inconsequential babble around her.

 _Present_

Amy looks back at Donnie, Stockman, and Lily who were fixed on her every word. "I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it...an endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches...always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull me back, no one who cared...or even noticed."

Amelia DeWitt Bukater, a girl of seventeen, was considering ending her life. Dinner had just about sent her over the edge, all of the people talking about money as If it meant more than oxygen. She didn't really matter to them, or to anyone. She felt more and more insignificant as she ran along the B deck promenade. She was disheveled, her hair flying. She was crying, her cheeks streaked with tears. But also angry, furious! Shaking with emotions she doesn't understand...hatred, self-hatred, desperation. A strolling couple watched her pass, shocked at the emotional display in public.

Leo was kicked back on one of the benches, gazing at the stars blazing gloriously overhead. He was thinking art thoughts and smoking a cigarette, something he hadn't done in a while. The silence was disturbed by the fast clicking of heels on the deck above him. In the shadows, a sobbing woman ran past him at the speed of an unstoppable train. When the moonlight illuminated the mystery woman, Leo saw who it was. The woman he saw on the third class deck at lunch. They're the only two on the stern deck, except for Quartermaster Murakami, twenty feet above them on the docking bridge catwalk.

She didn't see Leo in the shadows, but she looked different. Concerned, he sat upright and followed the sound of her noisy shoes.

Amy ran across the deserted fantail. Her breath hitched in an occasional sob, which she suppressed. Amy slammed against the base of the stern flagpole and clung there, panting. She stared out at the black water.

Then she started to climb over the railing. She had to hitch her long dress way up, and climbing was clumsy. Moving methodically, she turned her body and got her heels on the white-painted gunwale, her back to the railing, facing out towards blackness. 60 feet below her, the massive propellers were churning the Atlantic into white foam, and a ghostly wake trailed off toward the horizon.

Amy stood like a figurehead in reverse. Below her were the huge letters of the name 'Titanic.'

She leaned out, her arms straightening...looking down hypnotized, into the vortex below her. Her dress and hair were lifted by the wind of the ship's movement. The only sound, above the rush of water below, was the flutter and snap of the big Union, Leo right above her. He quietly sighed in relief, but knew that she had to be stopped.

"Don't do it," Leo said cautiously.

She whipped her head around at the sound of his voice. It took a second for her eyes to focus, but he saw the pain in her eyes and the tracks of tears that stained her cheeks.

"Stay back! Don't come any closer!" She replied, trying to force a voice of authority.

"Take my hand. I'll pull you in."

"No! Stay where you are! I'll mean it, I'll let go!"

"No you won't," Leo answered confidently.

"What do you mean, no I won't? Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me!" She cried angrily.

"You would have done it already," Leo said, hoping to make this woman reconsider. "Now come on, take my hand."

She couldn't reason with him, confused now. She couldn't see him very well through the tears, so she wiped them with one hand, almost losing her balance.

"You're distracting me. Go away."

"I can't. I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you."

She shot him a simpleton look. "Don't be absurd. You'll be killed."

Leo took off his jacket. "I'm a good swimmer." He started unlacing his left shoe.

"The fall along would kill you," she retaliated, finding every excuse not to listen to this stranger.

"It would hurt. I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be honest, I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold."

She looked down, the reality factor of what she was doing sinking in. "How cold?"

Leo took off his left shoe. "Freezing. Maybe a couple of degrees over." He started unlacing his right shoe.

"Ever been to Wisconsin?" He questioned.

She gave a perplexed look. "No."

"Well they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once when I was a kid, me and my father were ice-fishing out on Lake Wissota...ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the-"

"I know what ice-fishing is!" She snapped.

"Sorry. Just...you look like kind of an indoor girl. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm telling you, water that cold...like that right down there...it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breath, you can't think...least not about anything but the pain. And I'm cold blooded," Leo took off his right shoe. "Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you," he hoped his voice didn't show insincerity. "But like I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."

She considered this, not for one moment taking her eyes off of this turtle. He studied her expression; her poker face did not reveal any clues as to what her next move would be.

"You're crazy," she murmured.

"That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship."

He slid one step closer, like moving up on a spooked horse. "Come on, you don't want to do this. Give me your hand," he reached out his hand, praying in his head that she would see sense.

She stared at him for a long time, looking into his eyes. They somehow suddenly started to fill her universe. "Alright." She unfastened one hand from the rail, reaching it out towards him. He reached out to take it, firmly.

"I'm Leonardo Hamato."

"Amelia DeWitt Bukater," she replied.

"I'm gonna have to get you to write that one down," he said honestly. She gave a small laugh and held onto his hand tightly. Now that she decided to live, the height was terrifying. She was overcome with vertigo as she started shifting her foot, turning to face the ship. Whilst climbing the rail, her dress got in the way, one foot slipping off the edge. She plunged, letting out a piercing shriek. Leo, gripping her hand, was jerked towards the rail. Amy barely grabbed a lower rail with her free hand.

Quartermaster Bill, up on the docking bridge, heard the scream and headed for the ladder.

"HELP! HELP!" She shot him a bewildered look, trying to predict his next move.

"I've got you. I won't let go," Leo promised. He held her hand with all his strength, bracing himself on the railing with his other hand. Amy tried to get some kind of foothold on the smooth hull. Leo tried to lift her bodily over the railing. She couldn't get any footing in her dress and evening shoes, and she slipped back. She screamed again.

Leo, awkwardly clutching Amy by whatever he can get a grip on as she flails, got her over the railing. They fell together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Leo winded up slightly on top of her. The shock had obviously set in as she struggled for breath.

Bill slid down the ladder from the docking bridge like it's a fire drill and sprinted across the fantail.

"Here, what's all this?!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Angel: Yes, I know I haven't updated this in a while, but there was some chapter confusion on whether or not it was the right one I had numbered. I've been trying to figure out which one is which while also trying to write for my other stories. I'll try to post this on Saturdays, but I still have to finish this story as well...I guess I'll try to continue writing for this one when it's the next semester. Because on the 21st, I'm going to Orlando for the holidays and I come back on the 28th, sooo...yeah, enjoy this long-awaited chapter XD**

Bill ran up and pulled Leo off Amy, revealing her disheveled and sobbing on the deck. Her dress was torn, and the hem was pushing up above her knees, showing one ripped stocking. He looked at Leo, the shaggy steerage turtle with his jacket off, and the first class lady clearly in distress, and started drawing conclusions. Two seamen chug across the deck to join them.

"Here you, stand back! Don't move an inch!" He turned to the seamen. "Fetch the Master at Arms."

A few minutes later, Leo was being detained by the burly Master at Arms, the closest thing to a cop on board. He was handcuffing Leo. Xever was right in front of Leo, and furious. He had obviously just rushed out there with Bradford and another man, and none of them had coats over their black tie evening dress. The other man was Colonel Archibald Biggles, a mustached man blowhard who still had his brandy snifter. He offered it to Amy, who was hunched over crying on a bench nearby, but she waved it away. Xever was more concerned about Leo, grabbing him by the lapels.

"What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancee?! Look at me, you filth! What did you think you were doing?!"

Amy, who had said nothing the entire time, unwrapped herself from the blanket they provided her and went over to explain. "Xever, stop! It was an accident!"

"An accident?!"

They all turned to Amy, their facial expressions ranging from confused to curious. "It was...stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped." She looked at Leo, getting eye contact. "I was leaning way over, to see the...ah...propellers. And I slipped and I would have gone overboard...and Mr. Hamato here saved me and he almost went over himself."

"You wanted to see the propellers?" Xever asked, looking in disbelief.

Biggles shook his head. "Women and machinery do not mix, lass."

The Master at Arms looked at Leo. "Was that the way of it?"

Leo looked straight back at Amy, whose eyes pleaded for his alibi. "Uh huh. That was pretty much it." He looked at Amy a moment longer. Now they had a secret together.

"Well! The boy's a hero then. Good for you son, well done!" Biggles congratulated. He turned to Xever. "So it's all well and back to our brandy, eh?"

Leo was uncuffed, Xever getting Amy to her feet and moving. He rubbed her arms. "Let's get you in. You're freezing."

Xever left without a second thought for Leo.

"Ah, perhaps a little something for the boy?" Biggles suggested lowly.

"Oh, right. Mr. Bradford. A twenty should do it."

"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?" Amy asked, narrowing her eyes a little.

"Amelia is displeased. Hmm, what to do?" He turned back to Leo. He appraised him condescendingly...a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered. "I know. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"

Leo looked straight at Amy again. "Sure. Count me in."

"Good. Settled then." Xever turned to go, putting a protective arm around Amy. He leaned in close to Biggles as they walked away. "This should be amusing."

Leo asked Bradford as he passed by, "Can I bum a cigarette?"

Bradford smoothly drew a silver cigarette case from his jacket and snapped it open. Leo took a cigarette, then another, popping it behind his ear for later. Bradford lit Leo's cigarette.

"You'll want to tie those," Leo looked at his shoes. "Interesting that the young lady slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes. Mmm?"

Bradford's expression was bland, but the eyes were cold. He turned away to join his group.

* * *

In Amy's bedroom, as she undressed for bed, she saw Xever standing in her doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of her vanity. He came towards her, his voice unexpectedly tender. "I know you've been melancholy, and I don't pretend to know why."

From behind his back, he handed her a large black velvet jewel case. She took it, numbly.

"I intended to save this until the engagement gala next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feeling for you..."

Amy slowly opened the box. Inside was the necklace...the Heart of the Ocean in all its glory. It was huge...a malevolent blue stone glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflections.

"My God...Xever. Is it a-"

"Diamond. Yes it is. 56 carats to be exact." He took the necklace and during the following, placed it around her throat. He turned to her in the mirror, staring behind her.

"It was once worn by Louis the Sixteenth. They call it Le Coeur de lar Mer, the-"

"The Heart of the Ocean. Xever, it's...it's overwhelming."

He gazed at the image of the two of them in the mirror. "It's for royalty. We are royalty, Amelia." His fingers caressed her neck and throat. He seemed himself to be disarmed by Amy's elegance and beauty. His emotion was, for the first time, unguarded.

"You know, there's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you...if you would not deny me. Open your heart to me, Amelia."

She didn't answer. All she did was stare at herself in the mirror, touching her necklace.

 _"Of course, his gift was only to reflect light back onto himself, to illuminate the greatness that was Xever_ _Montes. It was a cold stone...a heart of ice."_

Amy's eyes slowly transformed through 84 years of life...


	6. Chapter 6

**Angel: I think I've finally fixed the whole chapter numbering. So, if my calculations are correct, I'm on chapter 14 now. I'll probably post the next chapter next weekend.**

Without a cut the wrinkled, weathered landscape of age has appeared around her eyes. But the eyes themselves are still the same. "After all these years, I can still feel it closing around my neck like a dog collar. I can still feel its weight. If you could have felt it, not just seen it..."

"That's the general idea, my dear," Donnie told her.

"So let me get this right. You were gonna kill yourself by jumping off the Titanic?" Baxter guffaws. "That's great!"

"Baxter..." Donnie warns.

But Amy laughs along with Stockman.

"All you had to do was wait two days!" Stockman says, still laughing. Donnie, standing out of Amy's sightline, checks his watch. Hours have passed. This process is taking too long.

"Amy, tell us more about the diamond. What did Montes do with it after that?"

"I'm afraid I'm feeling a little tired, Mr. Donatello."

Lily picks up the cue and starts to wheel her out.

"Wait!" Donnie calls out, "Can you give us something go on, here. Like who had access to the safe. What about this Bradford guy? The valet. Did he have the combination?"

"That's enough," Lily tells him and takes Amy out. Amy's old hand reappears at the doorway in a frail wave goodbye.

As the big hydraulic jib swings, one of the Mir subs out over the water that night. Donnie walks as he talks with Casey Jones, the partners' rep. They weave among deck cranes, launch crew, sub maintenance guys.

"The partners are pissed," Jones reports.

"Casey, buy me time. I need time," Donnie replies.

"We're running thirty thousand a day, and we're six days over. I'm telling you what they're telling me. The hand is on the plug. It's starting to pull."

"Well _you_ tell the hand I need another two days! Casey, Casey, Casey...we're close! I smell it. I smell ice. She had the diamond on...now we just have to find out where it wound up. I just gotta work her a bit more. Okay?"

Donnie turns and sees Lily standing behind him. She has overheard the past part of his dialogue with Jones. He goes to her and hustles her away from Jones, toward a quiet spot on the deck. "Hey, Lily. I need to talk to you for a second."

"Don't you mean _work_ me?" She asks, narrowing her eyes.

"Look, I'm running out of time. I need your help," he begs.

"I'm not going to help you browbeat my hundred and one year old grandmother. I came down here to tell _you_ to back off," she answers.

Donnie gives a look of undisguised desperation. "Lily...you gotta understand something. I've bet it all to find the Heart of the Ocean. I've got all my dough tied up in this thing. My wife even divorced me over this hunt. I need what's locked inside your grandma's memory." He holds out his hand. "You see this? Right here?"

She looks at his hand, palm up. Empty. Cupped, as if around an imaginary shape.

"What?"

"That's the shape my hand's gonna be when I hold that thing. You understand? I'm not leaving here without it."

"Look, Donnie, she's going to do this her own way, in her own time. Don't forget, she contacted you. She's out here for her own reasons, God knows what they are," Lily explains.

"Maybe she wants to make peace with the past," Donnie suggests.

"What past? She has never once, not once, ever said a word about being on the Titanic until two days ago."

"Then we're all meeting your grandmother for the first time," Donnie murmurs.

Lily looks at him hard. "You think she was really there?"

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, I'm a believer. She was there."

Stockman starts the tape recorder. Amy is gazing at the screen, seeing the live feed from the wreck. Metalhead is moving along the starboard side of the hull, heading aft. The rectangular windows of A deck march past on the right.

"The next day, Saturday, I remember thinking how the sunlight felt."

From the rustling hulk to the gleaming new Titanic in 1912, passing the end of the enclosed promenade just as Amy walked into the sunlight right in front of her. She was stunningly dressed and walking with purpose.

 _"As if I hadn't felt the sun in years."_

It was Saturday, April 13th, 1912. Amy unlatched the gate to go down into third class. The steerage men on the deck stop what they were doing, staring at her.

The social center of steerage life. It was stark by comparison to the opulence of first class, but was a loud, boisterous place. There were mothers with babies, kids running between the benches yelling in several languages and being scolded in several more. There were old women yelling, men playing chess, girls doing needlepoint and reading dime novels. There was even an upright piano and Mikey Ryan was noodling around it.

Three boys, shrieking and shouting, were scrambling around chasing a rat under the benches, trying to whomp it with a shoe and causing general havoc. Leo was playing with 5 year old Marie, drawing funny faces together in his sketchbook.

Raph was struggling to get a conversation going with an attractive Norwegian girl, Mona Dahl, sitting with her family at a table across the room.

"No Italian? Some little English?"

"No, no. Norwegian. Only."

Mona's eyes was caught by something. Raph looked, did a take...and Leo, curious, followed their gaze to see...

Amy, coming towards them. The activity in the room stopped...a hush fell. Amy felt suddenly self-conscious as the steerage passengers stared openly at this princess, some with resentment, others with awe. She spotted Leo and gave a little smile, walking straight to him. He rose to meet her, smiling.

"Hello Leonardo."

Raph and Mikey were floored. It was like the slipper fitting Cinderella.

"Hello again," Leo greeted.

"Could I speak to you in private?" Amy asked.

"Uh, yes. Of course. After you." He motioned her ahead and followed. Leo glanced over his shoulder, one brow raised, as he walked out with her leaving a stunned silence.

* * *

Amy and Leo walked side by side. They passed people reading and talking in steamer chairs, some of whom glanced curiously at the mismatched couple. He felt out of place in his rough clothes. They were both awkward, for different reasons as they walked in complete silence.

"Well, I've been on my own since I was 15, since my folks died. And I had no brothers or sisters or close kin in that part of the country. So I lit on out of there and I haven't been back since. You could just call me a tumbleweed blowing in the wind," they both chuckled. "Well, Amelia, we've walked about a mile around this boat deck and...chewed over how great the weather's been and how I grew up, but I reckon that's not why you came to talk to me, is it?"

"Mr. Hamato, I-"

"Leo," he corrected.

"Leo," she noted, "I want to thank you for what you did. Not just for...for pulling me back, but for your discretion."

"You're welcome, Amelia," Leo said, his mind filled with a million questions.

"Oh God, to be honest, I prefer Amy," she told him.

"Alright. Amy," he grinned.

"Look, I know what you must be thinking! Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?"

"No, no...that's not what I was thinking. What I was thinking was...what could have happened to hurt this girl so much she thought she had no way out."

"Well, I...it was everything. It was my whole world and...all the people in it," she stood at the rail, Leo joining her. "And the inertia in my life, plunging ahead and me powerless to stop it," she showed Leo her engagement ring."

"God, look at that thing. You would have gone straight to the bottom," Leo joked.

"500 invitations have gone out. All of Philadelphia society will be there. And all the while I feel I'm...standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up," she explained.

"Do you love him?" He asked.

"...Pardon me?" She looked appalled.

"Do you love him?" He repeated.

"You're being very rude. You shouldn't be asking me this," she retorted.

"Well, it's a simple question. Do you love the guy or not?" He pressed and she scoffed in in disbelief.

"This is not a suitable conversation," she replied.

"Why can't you just answer the question?" Leo laughed a little.

She laughed, placing a hand on her head as she moved away from him. "This is absurd. You don't know me and I don't know you and we are not having this conversation at all. You are rude and uncouth and presumptuous and...I am leaving now. Leo, Mr. Hamato, it's been a pleasure. I sought you out to thank you and now I have thanked you," she shook his hand.

"And you've insulted me," he added as he shook her hand back.

"Well, you deserved it."

"Right."

"Right." She kept shaking his hand, however.

"I thought you were leaving."

"I am," she let go of his hand, laughing to herself as she turned around. She turned back to him. "You are so annoying!"

He laughed but then she realized something. "Wait. I don't have to leave," she walked back to him. "This is my part of the ship. You leave!" She pointed right.

"Oh ho ho, well well well. Now who's being rude?" He replied. She turned her head, her mouth open in shock as she laughed before noticing his sketchbook. "What is this stupid thing you're carrying around?" She snatched it and opened it. "So what are you, an artist or something?" She looked at his sketches. "Well...These are rather good." She sat down on a deck chair. He sat down next to her. "They're very good, actually." She looked at a sketch of a woman breast feeding her baby.

"Leo, this is exquisite work."

"Ah, they didn't think too much of them in old Paree," he said.

"Paris? You do get around for a p-" she stopped, stuttering. "Well, uh...a-a person of limited means."

"Go on. A poor guy. You can say it," he chuckled.

She looked at a sketch of a naked woman with a cigarette in her mouth. "Well, well, well. And these were drawn from life?"

Leo nodded and Amy covered up the sketches as someone passed by. God knows what would happen if he saw her looking at nude drawings.

"Well, that's one of the good things about Paris. Lots of girls are willing to take their clothes off." She smiled at him a little, laughing.

She turned the page. "You liked this woman. You used her several times," she pointed out.

"Well, she had beautiful hands, you see?" They looked at a drawing of the woman's hands.

"I think you must've had a love affair with her," she joked.

"No, no, no. Just with her hands. She was a one-legged prostitute," she turned to him. "See?" He turned the page and she gave a slightly appalled look.

"O-Oh." They both laughed.

"She had a good sense of humor though," Leo replied and she looked at him. "Oh, and this lady," he turned to the page to a sketch of a woman in jewelry and a coat. "She used to sit at this bar every night, wearing every piece of jewelry she owned just waiting for her long lost love. We called her Madame Bijoux. See, her clothes are all moth-eaten."

She started to see him in a new light..."Well, you have a gift, Leo. You do. You see people."

"I see you," he said.

She gave an amused smile. "And?"

"You wouldn't have jumped."

Her smile faltered as she looked at him, giving him a piercing gaze.


	7. Chapter 7

**Angel: Hello, everyone! This is the second to last story I will update before I leave. I'm on chapter 20 now and I'm almost finished. I think I've got 2 or 3 more? Anyway, happy holidays!**

Nadia was having tea with Noel Lucy Martha Dyer-Edwards, the Countess of Rothes, a 35ish English blue blood with patrician features. Nadia saw someone coming across the room and lowered her voice.

"Oh no, that vulgar Brown woman is coming this way. Get up, quickly before she sits with us."

Irma Brown walked up, greeting them cheerfully as they were rising. "Hello girls, I was hoping I'd catch you at tea."

"We're awfully sorry you missed it. The Countess and I are just off to take the air on the boat deck," Nadia lied, hoping to make the woman leave.

"That sounds great. Let's go. I need to catch up on the gossip."

Nadia gritted her teeth as the three of them headed for the Grand Staircase to go up. As they crossed the room, Anton Ismay and Captain Splinter were at another table.

"So you've not lit the last four boilers then?" Ismay questioned.

"No, but we are making excellent time," Splinter answered with a little smile.

"Captain, the press knows the size of Titanic, let them marvel at her speed too. We must give them something new to print. And the maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines!" Anton argued impatiently.

"I prefer not to push the engines until they have been properly run in," Splinter replied.

"Of course I leave it to your good offices to decide what's best, but what a glorious end to your last crossing if we get into New York Tuesday night and surprised them all," he slapped his hand on the table, "Retire with a bang, eh, E.J?"

Splinter nodded, stiffly.

* * *

Leo and Amy wandered around the first class deck, Amy quickly feeling more comfortable with Leo. She knew that she was destined to marry Xever, but there was something about Leo that made her want to start anew like he had. They strolled past people lounging on deck chairs in the slanting late-afternoon light. Stewards scurried to serve tea or hot cocoa.

"You know, my dream has always been to just chuck it all and become an artist...living in a garret, poor but free!" Amy sounded girlish and excited.

Leo laughed, patting her on the head. "You wouldn't last two days. There's no hot water, and hardly ever any caviar."

Amy got angry in a flash at that. "Listen, buster...I hate caviar! And I'm tired of people dismissing my dreams with a chuckle and pat on the head."

"I'm sorry. Really...I am."

"Well, alright. There's something in me, Leo. I feel it. I don't know what it is, whether I should be an artist, or, I don't know...a dancer. Like Isadora Duncan...a wild pagan spirit," she leaped forward, landing deftly and whirling like a dervish. Then she saw something ahead and her face lit up. "...Or a moving picture actress!"

She took his hand and ran, pulling him along the deck toward-

Jack and Mary Marvin. Jack was cranking the big wooden movie camera as she posed stiffly at the rail. "You're sad. Sad, sad, sad. You've left your lover on the shore. You may never see him again. Try to be sadder, darling."

Suddenly Amy shot into the shot and struck a theatrical pose at the rail next to Mary, who burst out laughing. Amy pulled Leo into the picture and made him pose.

Jack grinned, starting to yell and gesture.

Amy posed tragically at the rail, the back of her hand to her forehead.

Leo was on a deck chair, pretending to be a Pasha, the two girls pantomiming fanning like slave girls.

Leo, on his knees, was pleading with his hands clasped while Amy, standing, turned her head in boredom and disdain.

Amy cranked the camera while Jack and Leo had a western shoot-out. Leo won and leered into the lens, twirling an air mustache like Snidely Whiplash.

Painted with orange light, Leo and Amy leaned on the A deck rail aft, shoulder to shoulder. The ship's lights came on. It was a magical moment...perfect.

"So then what, Mr. Wandering Leo?"

"Well, then logging got to be too much like work, so I went down to Los Angeles to the pier in Santa Monica. That's a swell place, they even have a rollercoaster. I sketched portraits there for ten cents a piece," he explained.

"A whole ten cents?!" Amy asked in surprise.

Leo didn't seem to get it, though, "Yeah; it was great money...I could make a dollar a day, sometimes. Butonly in summer. When it got cold, I decided to go to Paris and see what the real artists were doing."

Amy looked at the dusk sky. "Why can't I be like you, Leo? Just head out for the horizon whenever I feel like it," she turned to him. "Say we'll go there, sometime...to that pier...even if we only ever just talk about it."

"Alright, we're going. We'll drink cheap beer and go on the rollercoaster until we throw up and we'll ride horses on the beach...right in the surf...but you have to ride like a cowboy, none of that side-saddle stuff."

"You mean one leg on each side? Scandalous! Can you show me?" She replied curiously.

"Sure. If you like," he offered.

Amy smiled, "I think I would." She looked at the horizon. "And teach me to spit too. Like a man. Why should only men be able to spit. It's unfair."

"They didn't teach you that in finishing school? Here, it's easy. Watch closely." He spat and it arched out over the water. "Your turn."

Amy screwed up her mouth and spat. A pathetic little bit of foamy spittle which mostly ran down her chin before falling off into the water.

"Nope, that was pitiful. Here, like this...you hawk it down...HHHNNNK...then roll it up your tongue, up to the front, like thith, then a big breath and PLOOOW! You see the range on that thing?"

She went through the steps. Hawked it down, etc. He coached her through it while doing the steps himself. She let it fly. So did he. Two comets of gob fly out over the water.

"That was great!" He told her.

Amy turned to him, her face alight. Suddenly she blanched. He saw her expression and turned.

Nadia, the Countess of Rothes, and Irma Brown had been watching them hawking lugees. Amy instantly became composed. "Mother, may I introduce Leonardo Hamato."

"Charmed, I'm sure." Leo had a little spit running down his chin. He didn't know it, though. Irma Brown grinned. Amy proceeded with the introductions.

"Mother...may I introduce Leonardo Hamato."

Nadia looks at Leo with a cold expression.

 _"The others were gracious and curious about the turtle who'd saved my life. But my mother looked at like an insect. A dangerous insect which must be squashed quickly."_

"Charmed, I'm sure." Irma indicated to her mouth and Leo wiped down his saliva.

"Well, Leonardo, it sounds like you're a good man to have around in a sticky spot-"

They all jumped as a bugler sounded the meal call right behind them, interrupting Irma. "Why do they insist on always announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" Irma muttered.

"Shall we go dress, Mother?" Amy suggested, looking over her shoulder. "See you at dinner, Leo."

As they walked away, Nadia scolded her daughter. "Amelia, look at you...out in the sun with no hat. Honestly!"

The Countess exited with Amy and Nadia, leaving Leo and Irma alone on deck.

"Son, do you have the slightest comprehension of what you're doing?" Irma asked.

"Not really," Leo answered honestly.

"Well, you're about to go into the snakepit. I hope you're ready. What are you planning to wear?"

Leo looked down at his clothes before back at her. He hadn't thought about that.

"I figured."

* * *

In Irma's stateroom, men's suits and jackets and formal wear are strewn all over the place. Irma was having a fine time, especially since she had finally found something to fit the turtle. Leo was dressed, except for his jacket, and Irma was tying his bow tie.

"Don't feel bad about it. My husband still can't tie one of these damn things after 20 years. There you go."

She picked up a jacket off the bed and handed it to him. Leo went into the bathroom to put it on. Irma started picking up the stuff off the bed. "I gotta buy everything in three sizes 'cause I never know how much he's been eating while I'm away."

She turned and saw him. "My, my, my...you shine up like a new penny."


	8. Chapter 8

**Angel: Sooo my trip got cancelled XD But I obviously didn't continue writing (this chapter was done months before) and don't expect me to do the same this week. I actually have to leave later on, not the date I told you I was supposed to be gone, so my mother told me I can't visit my godmother until she's off work, which is I have no idea. *shrugs helplessly* If I don't update anything for the rest of the month, then I'm just gonna update stories in the spring. Happy holidays!**

A purple sky, shot with orange, in the west at dusk on the boat deck. There was drifting stains of classical music. Leo walked along the deck and by Edwardian standards he looked badass. Dashing in his borrowed white-tie outfit, right down to his pearl studs.

A steward bowed and smartly opened the door to the First Class entrance. "Good evening, sir."

Leo played the role smoothly. He nodded with just the right degree of disdain.

He stepped in and his breath was taken away by the splendor spread out before him. Overhead was the enormous glass dome, with a crystal chandelier at its center. Sweeping down six stories is the First Class Grand Staircase, the epitome of the opulent naval architecture of the time.

And the people: the women in their floor length dresses, elaborate hairstyles and abundant jewelry...the gentlemen in evening dress, standing with one hand at the small of the back, talking quietly.

Leo descended to the A deck. Several men nodded a perfunctory greeting. He nodded back, keeping it simple. He felt like a spy.

Xever came down the stairs, with Nadia on his arm, covered in jewelry. They both walked right past Leo, neither one recognizing him. Xever nodded at him, one gent to another. But Leo barely had time to be amused. Because just behind Xever and Nadia on the stairs was Amy, a vision in red and black, her low-cut dress showing off her neck and shoulders, her arms sheathed in white gloves that come well above the elbow. Leo was hypnotized by her beauty.

Amy approached Leo. To her, he really looked like a first-class gentleman. He imitated the gentlemen's stance, hand behind his shell. She extended her gloved hand and he took it, kissing the back of her fingers. Amy flushed, beaming noticeably. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

"I saw that in a nickelodeon once, and I always wanted to do it," he admitted and she turned to Xever.

"Xever, surely you remember Mr. Hamato," Amy called out.

He was caught off guard by Leo's attire. "Hamato! I didn't recognize you." He studied him. "Amazing! You could almost pass for a gentlemen."

"Almost," Leo repeated.

The party descended to dinner. They encountered Irma, looking good in a beaded dress, in her own busty broad-shouldered way. Irma grinned when she saw Leo. "Care to escort a lady?"

"Of course," he smiled kindaly, offering his free arm to her.

"Ain't nothing to it, is there, Leo?"

"Yeah, you just dress like a pallbearer and keep your nose up," he answered.

"Remember, the only thing they respect is money, so just act like you've got a lot of it and you're in the club," she reminded him.

As they entered the swirling throng, Amy leaned close to him, pointing out several notables. "There's the Countess of Rothes. And that's John Jacob Astor...the richest man on the ship. His little wifey there, Madeleine, is my age and in a delicate condition. See how's she trying to hide it. What a scandal." She nodded towards a couple. "And over there, that's Sir Cosmo and Lucille, Lady Duff-Gordon. She designs naughty lingerie, among her many talents. Very popular with the royals."

Xever became engrossed in a conversation with Cosmo Duff-Gordon and Colonel Biggles, while Nadia, the Countess, and Lucile discussed fashion. Amy picoted Leo smoothly, to show him another couple, dressed impeccably.

"And that's Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, Madame Aubert. Mrs. Guggenheim is at home with the children, of course."

Xever, however, was accepting the praise of his male counterparts, who were looking at Amy like a prize show horse.

"Montes, she is splendid," Sir Cosmo commented.

"Thank you."

"Xever's a lucky man. I know him well, and it can only be luck," Biggles said.

Nadia stepped over, hearing the last. She took Xever's arm, somewhat coquettishly. "How can you say that, Colonel? Xever Montes is a great catch."

The entourage strolled toward the dining saloon, where they ran into the Astor's going through the ornate double doors.

"J.J., Madeleine, I'd like you to meet Leonardo Hamato," Amy said.

Astor shook his hand. "Good to meet you, Leonardo. Are you of the Japanese Hamatos?"

"No, the Chippewa Falls Hamatos, actually," Leo answered.

J.J. nodded as if he'd heard of them, then looked puzzled. Madeleine Astor appraised Leo and whispered girlishly to Amy. "It's a pity we're both spoken for, isn't it?"

The dining saloon was like a ballroom at the palace, alive and lit by a constellation of chandeliers, full of elegantly dressed people and beautiful music from Bandleader Wallace Hartley's small orchestra. Amy and Leo entered and moved across the room to their table, Xever and Nadia beside them.

 _"He must have been nervous, but he never faltered. They assumed he was one of them...a young captain of industry perhaps...new money, obviously, but still a member of the club. Mother of course, could always be counted upon..."_

"Tell us of the accommodations in steerage, Mr. Hamato. I hear they're quite good on this ship," Nadia suggested. Amy was secretly a little miffed that she asked him that. Her and Xever were almost absolutely alike.

Leo was seated opposite Amy, who was flanked by Xever and Slash Andrews. Also at the table were Irma Brown, Ismay, Colonel Biggles, the Countess, Guggenheim, Madame Aubert, and the Astors.

"The best I've seen, ma'am. Hardly any rats."

The people at the table laughed. Amy motioned surreptitiously for Leo to take his napkin off his plate.

"Mr. Hamato is joining us from third class. He was of some assistance to my fiancee last night." He turned to Leo, as if he were a child. "This is foie gras. It's goose liver."

Whispers were exchanged at this. Leo became the subject of furtive glances. Now they were all feeling terribly liberal and dangerous.

Guggenheim spoke low to Madame Aubert. "What is Montes hoping to prove, bringing this...Bohemian...up here?"

The waiter turned to Leo. "How do you like your caviar, sir?"

Xever answered for him, "Just a soupcon of lemon..." He turned to Leo, smiling, "It improves the flavor with champagne."

Leo turned to the waiter. "No caviar for me, thanks. Never did like it much." He looked at Amy, pokerfaced, and she smiled.

"And where exactly do you live, Mr. Hamato?" Nadia asked.

"Well, right now my address is the RMS Titanic. After that, I'm on God's good humor."

Salad was served. Leo reached for the fish fork. Irma gave him a look and picked up the salad fork, prompting him with her eyes. He changed forks.

"You find that rootless existence appealing, do you?" Nadia questioned coldly. Amy really wished she wouldn't make everyone see Leo differently. They were all human beings, but Leo was more human than her mother. Nadia was acting like a hungry electric eel, waiting for the moment to strike and win. She always wanted to win.

"Well...it's a big world, and I want to see it all before I go. My father was always talking about goin' to see the ocean. He died in the town I was born in, and never did see it. You can't wait around, because you never know what hand you're going to get dealt with next. See, my folks died in a fire when I was fifteen, and I've been on the road since. Somethin' like that teaches you to take life as it comes to you. To make each day count."

Irma Brown raised her glass in a salute.

"Well said, Leonardo."

Biggles raised his glass, "Here, here."

Amy raised her glass, looking at Leo. "To making it count." The rest of them toasted to that mantra as well.

Nadia, annoyed that Leo had scored a point, pressed him further. "How is it you have the means to travel, Mr. Hamato?"

"I work my way from place to place. Tramp steamers and such. I won my ticket on Titanic here in a lucky hand at poker." He glanced at Amy. "A very lucky hand."

"All life is a game of luck," Biggles commented.

"A real man makes his own luck, Archie," Xever replied.

Amy noticed that Slash Andrews, sitting next to her, was writing in his notebook, completely ignoring the conversation. "Mr. Andrews, what are you doing? I see you everywhere writing in this little book." She grabbed the book, reading it. "Increase number of screws in hat hooks from 2 to 3. You build the biggest ship in the world and this preoccupies you?!"

Andrews smiled sheepishly.

"He knows every rivet in her, don't ya Slash?" Ismay asked.

"All three million of them," Andrews answered.

"His blood and his soul are in the ship. She may be mine on paper, but in the eyes of God she belongs to Slash Andrews," Ismay grinned.

"Your ship is a wonder, Mr. Andrews. Truly," Amy said.

"Thank you, Amelia." He had come under her spell.

Dessert had been served and a waiter arrived with cigars in a humidor on a wheeled cart. The men started clipping ends and lighting.

Amy spoke low to Leo, "Next it'll be brandies in the Smoking Room."

Biggles rose to his feet, "Well, join me for a brandy, gentlemen?"

"Now they retreat into a cloud of smoke and congratulate each other on being masters of the universe," Amy said to Leo in the same tone.

"Joining us, Hamato? You don't want to stay out here with the lassies, do you?" Biggles offered.

Actually, he did, but...

"No thanks. I'm heading back."

"Probably best. It'll be all business and politics, that sort of thing. Wouldn't interest you. Good of you to come." Xever and the other gentlemen left.

"Leo, must you go?" Amy asked a little sadly.

"Time for my coach to turn back into a pumpkin," he leaned over to take her hand, kissing it as he pushed a note into hers.

Nadia, scowling, watched him walk away across the enormous room. Amy surreptitiously opened the note below table level. It read, 'Make it count, meet me at the clock.'

She crumpled up the note, gave a dismissive wave to her mother, and left the room. She crossed the A deck foyer, sighting Leo at the landing above. Overhead was the crystal dome. Leo had his shell to her, studying the ornate clock with its carved figures of Honor and Glory. It softly struck the hour.

Amy went up the sweeping staircase toward him. He turned, saw her, and smiled.

"Want to go to a real party?" He asked as the clock chimed its hourly song.


	9. Chapter 9

**Angel: Hello everyone! Happy New Year! I'm typing up chapters left and right as we speak, but I figured I might as well post _something..._ I'm almost finished with one chapter to go out for IMT the Movie and I'm halfway through the Hey Arnold chapter. I've put up a poll to decide which story I should do next after this one is done, so go ahead and vote! And yes, I put the Sonic X story on there. **

Amy and Leo had made their way from first class to steerage easily by following the loud music from the decks below. Despite the bitter cold, they seemed to enjoy themselves. It was nothing like the pompous orchestra in the dining area, it was loud and vibrant with a solid dance beat. Amy opened the door to see a dimly lit room full of people drinking, laughing, smoking, dancing, and having a good time. A dance floor had been set up on one end of the galley. Tables had been pushed over in the other end and chairs were set up where the guests were to be speculated and amazed by the performers on the floor. Some of the tables contained card players, and in one end a makeshift bar had been set up, using one of the tables, where a bartender served beer from pitchers. A keg was placed behind the makeshift bar, on a table. The energy contained in the room was lovely and bright, which made everyone, from strangers to family, all for one night. Leo guided Amy to the makeshift bar where Mikey and Raph were sitting and the four of them drank the beers that arrived promptly at their table. Mikey handed Amy a pint of stout and she hoisted it. Leo meanwhile danced with Marie, or tried to, with her standing on his feet. As the tune ended, Leo turned to Amy.

"Come on," he offered his hand.

"What?" Her smile dropped. He took her hand, forcing her out of her chair. She was standing with Leo holding her hand and she realized that he was very close to her.

Marie frowned as she knew her dance was done.

"You're still my best girl, Marie," Leo assured.

Marie smiled and scampered off. Amy and Leo faced each other. She was trembling as he took her right hand in his left. His other hand slid to the small of her back. It was an electrifying moment as it gave her goosebumps. "I don't know the steps," she admitted.

"Just move with me. Don't think," he told her. The music started and they're off. A little awkward at first, but then she started to get into it. She grinned at Leo as she started to get the rhythm of the steps.

"Wait...stop!" She bended down, pulling off her high heeled shoes, and flung them at Mikey. Then she grabbed Leo and they plunged back into the fray, dancing faster as the music sped up.

The scene was rowdy and rollicking. A table got knocked over as a drunk crashed into it. And in the middle of it...Amy dancing with Leo in her stocking feet. The steps were fast and she shined with sweat. A space opened around them, and people watched them, clapping as the band played faster and faster...

With Raph and Mona, dancing had obviated the need for a common language. He whirled her, then she responded by whirling him. Raph's eyes went wide when he realized she's stronger than he was.

The tune ended in a mad rush. Leo stepped away from Amy with a flourish, allowing her to take a bow. Exhilarated and slightly tipsy, she did a graceful ballet pile, feet turned out perfectly. Everyone laughed and applauded. Amy was a hit with the steerage folks, who've never had a lady party with them. She felt so rebellious and confident, like a real seventeen year old. It was her true self.

They moved to a table, flushed and sweaty. Amy grabbed Raph's cigarette and took a big drag. She felt cocky. Raph was grinning, holding hands with Mona.

"How you two doin'?" Leo asked.

"I don't know what she says, she doesn't know what she says, so we're getting along fine," Raph answered. Mikey walked up with a pint for each of them. Amy chugged hers, showing off, Leo watching with an open mouth.

"You think a first class girl can't drink?"

Everyone else was dancing again, and Mark Gunderson crashed into Mikey, who sloshed his beer over Amy's dress. She laughed, not caring. But Mikey lunged, grabbing Mark and wheeling him around. "You stupid bastard!"

Mark came around, his fists coming up...and Leo leaped in the middle of it, pushing them apart. "Boys, boys! Did I ever tell you the one about the Swede and Irishman going to the whorehouse?"

Mikey stood there, all piss and vinegar, chest puffed up...or plastron. He grinned and clapped Mark on the shoulder.

"So, you think you're big tough men? Let's see you do this," in her stocking feet, Amy assumed a ballet stance, arms raised, and went up on point, taking her entire weight on the tips of her toes. The guys gaped at her incredible muscle control. She came back down, then her face screwed up in pain. She grabbed one foot, hopping around. "Oooowww! I haven't done that in years."

Leo caught her as she lost her balance, and everyone cracked up.

The door to the well deck was opened a few inches as Bradford watched through the gap. He saw Leo holding Amy, both of them laughing. Bradford closed the door.

* * *

Several drinks and hours later, the party was dying down as people retired to bed. Amy and Leo had decided that they would leave the stuffy party to take some air out on the deck. The stars blazed overhead, so bright and clear you could see the Milky Way. The two of them walked along the lifeboats, still giddy from the party as they sung 'Come Josephine In My Flying Machine.' They broke down laughing at the incorrect and fumbled lyrics they were singing.

And suddenly they were both outside of the First Class entrance, but don't go straight in, not wanting the evening to end. Leo heard the distant sounds of the orchestra still playing through the door as Amy went over to the edge of the ship. The stars lit up the sky like bright candles on the clearest night the Titanic had seen.

"Isn't it magnificent? So grand and endless," Amy leaned on the rail. "They're such small people, Leo...my crowd. They think they're giants on the Earth, but they're not even dust in God's eye. They live inside this tiny little champagne bubble...and someday the bubble's going to burst."

He leaned at the rail next to her, his hand just touching hers. It was the slightest contact imaginable, and all either of them could feel was that square inch of skin where their hands were touching.

"You're not one of them. There's been a mistake," Leo told her.

"A mistake?" She asked.

"Uh huh. You got mailed to the wrong address," he explained and she laughed.

"I did, didn't I?" Suddenly, a shooting star flashed past both of their eyes and she pointed at it. "Look! A shooting star."

"That was a long one. My father used to say that whenever you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven," Leo said.

"I like that. Aren't we supposed to wish on it?" Amy questioned.

Leo looked at her, and found that they were suddenly very close together. It would be so easy to move another couple of inches, to kiss her. Amy seemed to be thinking the same thing. "What would you wish for?"

After a beat, Amy pulled back. "Something I can't have." She smiled sadly. "Goodnight, Leo. And thank you." She left the rail and hurried through the First Class entrance.

"Amy!" Leo called out, but the door banged shut and she was gone. Back to her world.

* * *

Sunday, April 14th, 1912. A bright clear day that morning. Sunlight splashing across the promenade. Amy and Xever were having breakfast in silence as the tension was palpable. Ann Bolt, in her maid's uniform, poured the coffee and went inside.

"I had hoped you would come to me last night," he said, finally breaking the silence.

"I was tired," she explained.

"Yes. Your extortions below decks were no doubt exhausting," he replied enviously.

Amy stiffened as she knew she was caught. And she only knew one reason how he could have known. "I see you had that undertaker of a manservant follow me."

"You will never behave like that again! Do you understand?"

"I'm not some foreman in your mills you can command!" She argued, "I am your fiancee-"

Xever exploded, sweeping the breakfast china off the table with a crash. He moved to her in one shocking moment, glowering over her and gripping the sides of her chair, so she was trapped between his arms.

"Yes! You are! And my wife...in practice, if not yet by law. So you will honor me, as a wife is required to honor her husband! I will not be made out of a fool! Is this in any way unclear?"

Amy shrunk in the chair. She saw Ann, frozen, partway through the door bringing the orange juice. Xever followed Amy's glance and straightened up. He stalked past the maid, entering the stateroom. "We...had a little accident. I'm sorry, Annie."

Ann assured her that it wasn't her fault and Amy started to sob at what her life was becoming.

* * *

Amy was dressed for the day, and was in the middle of helping her mother with her corset. The tight bindings do not inhibit her fury at all.

"You are not to see that...whatever it is, again, do you hear me, Amelia? I forbid it!"

Amy had her knee at the base of her mother's back and was pulling the corset strings with both hands. "Oh stop it, Mother. You'll give yourself a nosebleed."

Nadia pulled away from her, crossing to the door and locking it. She wheeled on the younger brunette, making an effort to stand superiorly over her. "Amelia, this is not a game! Our situation is precarious. You know the money's gone!"

"Of course I know it's gone," Amy growled, "You remind me every day."

"Your father left us with nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name. And that name is the only card we have to play."

Amy turned her around and grabbed the corset strings again. Nadia sucked in her waist and Amy pulled. "I don't understand you. It is a fine match with Montes and it will insure our survival."

Amy gave a look of hurt and isolation. "How can you put this on my shoulders?"

She turned to her mother, who had naked fear in her eyes. "Do you want to see me working as a seamstress? Is that what you want? Do you want to see our fine things sold at an auction, our memories scattered to the winds? My God, Amelia, how can you be so selfish?"

"It's so unfair."

"Of course it's unfair! We're women. Our choices are never easy."

Amy pulled the corset tighter.


	10. Chapter 10

**Angel: I probably should've mentioned this last chapter, but for those who don't have an account on Fanfiction can vote for the poll through the reviews XD Sorry.**

At the Sunday divine service in the First Class Dining Saloon, Splinter was leading the group in the hymn 'Almighty Father Strong to Save.' Amy and Nadia sung in the middle of the group. Bradford stood well back, keeping an eye on Amy.

Leo had searched for Amy and upon running into a friendly maid called Ann, he had discovered they were at the service. The stewards stopped him from entering and Bradford heard the commotion at the entry doors. Leo was dressed in his third class clothes, standing there with a hat in his hand as he looked out of place.

"Look, you, you're not supposed to be here," one of the stewards warned him.

"I was just here last night...don't you remember?" Leo saw Bradford walking towards him and pointed to him. "He'll tell you."

"Mr. Montes and Mrs. DeWitt Bukater continue to be most appreciative of your assistance. They asked me to give you this in gratitude-"

He held out two twenty dollar bills, which Leo refused to take. "I don't want money, I-"

"And also remind you that you hold a third class ticket and your presence here is no longer appropriate."

Leo spotted Amy, but she didn't see him. "I just need to talk to Amy for a-"

"Gentlemen, please see that Mr. Hamato gets back where he belongs." He gave the twenties to the stewards, "And that he stays there."

"Yes sir!" They turned to Leo, "Come along you."

And with those instructions, he was taken back to third class, Amy not seeing a thing as she continued singing.

* * *

At the gymnasium, an Edwardian nautilus room, there were machines people would recognize, and others they would not. A woman pedaled a stationary bike in a long dress, looking ridiculous. Slash Andrews was leading a small tour group, including Amy, Nadia, and Xever. Xever was working the oars of a stationary rowing machine with a well trained stroke.

"Reminds me of my Harvard days."

Pete McCauley (aka Pigeon Pete), the gym instructor, was a bouncy little man in white flannels, eager to show off his modern equipment, like his present day counterpart on an 'Abflex' infomercial. He hit a switch and a machine with a saddle on it started to undulate. Amy put her hand on it, curious.

"The electric horse is very popular. We even have an electric camel." Pete turned to Nadia. "Care to try your hand at the rowing, ma'am?"

"Don't be absurd. I can't think of a skill I should likely need," she retorted.

"The next stop on our tour will be bridge. This way, please," Pete explained.

* * *

Leo walked in determination on the aft well deck, Raph and Mikey following him closely. He quickly climbed the steps to the B deck and stepped over the gate separating 3rd from 2nd class.

"She's a goddess amongst mortal men...or turtles, there's no denyin'. But she's in another world, bro, forget her. She's closed the door," Mikey told him.

Leo moved furtively to the wall below the A deck promenade. "It was them, not her," he replied, still in disbelief that Xever had gotten two stewards to escort him to steerage. He glanced around the deck for anyone. "Ready...go."

Mikey shook his head resignedly and put his hands together, crouching down. Leo stepped into Mikey's hands and got boosted up to the next deck, where he landed perfectly over the railing, onto the First Class deck.

"He's not being logical, I'm telling you," Mikey said to Raph.

"Love ain't logical," Raph shrugged.

* * *

On the A deck, a man was playing with his son, who was spinning a top with a string. The man's overcoat and hat were sitting on a deck chair nearby. Leo emerged from behind one of the huge deck cranes and calmly picked up the coat and bowler hat. He walked away, slipping into the coat, and slicked his mask back to hide it. Then he put the hat on at a jaunty angle. At a distance he could pass for a gentlemen.

Milton Bride, the 21 year old Junior Wireless Operator (aka that wizard from Mazes & Mutants) hustled into the bridge and skirted around Andrews' tour group to hand a Marconigram to Captain Splinter.

"Another ice warning, sir. This one from the 'Baltic.' "

"Thank you, Sparks," Splinter glanced at the message then nonchalantly put it in his pocket. He nodded reassuringly to Amy and the group. "No need to worry, it is quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we are speeding up. I have just ordered the last boilers lit."

Andrews scowled slightly before motioning the group toward the door. They exited just as Second Officer Charles Herbert Lightoller came out of the chartroom, stopping next to First Officer Jared.

"Did we ever find those binoculars for the lookouts?"

"Haven't seen them since Southhampton," First Officer Jared reported.

Slash Andrews was hurrying through the deck, looking at his pocket watch as he went. "Mr. Andrews," Amy spoke, "I did the sum in my head, and with the number of lifeboats times the capacity you mentioned...forgive me, but it seems that there are not enough for everyone abroad."

"About half, actually. Amelia, you miss nothing, do you? In fact, I put in these new type davits, which can take an extra row of boats here. But it was thought...by some...that the deck would look too cluttered. So I was over-ruled."

Xever slapped the side of a boat. "Waste of deck space as it is, on an unsinkable ship!"

"Sleep soundly, young Amelia. I have built you a good ship, strong and true. She's all the lifeboat you need." That was all the explanation Andrews could offer and no sooner had he arrived, he had departed.

As they were passing Boat 7, a gentlemen turned from the rail and walked up behind the group. It was Leo. He tapped Amy on the arm and she turned, gasping. He motioned and she cut away from the group toward a door that Leo held open. They ducked into the gymnasium on the Second Class deck. The room was filled with complex gym equipment, but other than that, the two of them were alone. Leo closed the door behind her.

"Leo, this is impossible. I can't see you." Amy knew she didn't want it to be that way, but it seemed that they were in two different worlds.

Leo took her by the shoulders and stared into her lost eyes. "Amy, you're no picnic...you're a spoiled little brat even, but under that you're a strong, pure heart, and you're the most amazingly astounding girl I've ever known and-"

She had to stop talking before she can't bear it. She felt like a hot bout of shame crawling inside of her.

"Leo, I-"

"No wait. Let me try to get this out. You're amaz-" he stopped with a sigh. "I'm not an idiot, I know how the world works. I got ten bucks in my pocket and I have nothing to offer you...and I know that. But I'm involved now. You jump, I jump, remember? I can't turn away without knowing that you're going to be alright."

Amy felt the tears coming to her eyes as her heart raced to his confession. Leo was so open and real...not like anyone she had ever known. She wanted to have Leo closer to her. But she stood back and thought about all the trouble they had already caused. She was engaged, to be wed to Xever Montes. Letting Leo pursue her would hurt too many people. It would get Leo into more trouble. Xever could call off the engagement, sending Amy and her mother into bankruptcy.

"You're making this very hard. I'll be fine. Really," she insisted coldly. Leo didn't look like he believed her. There was only one thing for her to do for him to stay away. She had to put a nail in the coffin.

"I don't think so. They've got you in a glass jar like some butterfly, and you're going to die if you don't break out. Maybe not right away, cause you're strong. But sooner or later the fire in you is going to go out."

Amy opened her mouth to speak and had to swallow down the lump that had formed in her throat as he caressed her cheek. "It's not up to you to save me, Leo."

"You're right. Only you can do that."

"I have to get back, they'll miss me. Please, Leo, for both our sakes, leave me alone." She quickly exited the gym, wanting to allow some time for the tears stinging her eyes to disappear before she returned to the tour group.

* * *

The most elegant room in the ship, the First Class lounge, done in Louis Quinze Versailles style. Amy sat on a divan, with a group of other women arrayed around her. Nadia, the Countess of Rothes, and Lady Duff-Gordon were taking tea. Amy was silent as a porcelain figurine as the conversation washed around her, feeling empty. She felt emasculated by Xever's behavior, and embarrassed that she could hold no control over anything in her life at present.

"Of course the invitations had to be sent back to the printers twice. And the bridesmaid dresses! Let me tell you what an odyssey that has been..." Nadia went on, Amy still silent.

 _Amy and her mother were having tea. The four year old_ _girl, wearing white gloves, daintily picked up a cookie. Her mother corrected her on her posture, and the way she held the teacup. The little girl was trying so hard to please, her expression serious. A glimpse of Amy at that age, even at that time she was conditioning relentlessly...the pain to becoming an Edwardian geisha._

When she was with Leo, she didn't feel the need to think about what to say or to mind her actions. It felt natural and right. She felt alive and that her life had a purpose other than to save her mother from debt. She calmly and deliberately turned her teacup over, spilling tea all over her dress.

"Oh, look what I've done," she said innocently, excusing herself to change.

* * *

Titanic steamed in the dusk light, as if lit by the embers of a giant fire. As the ship loomed, Leo was there on the bow, right at the apex of the bow railing. It was his favorite spot. He closed his eyes, letting the chill wind clear his head. The wind whipped his mask behind his head.

"Hello Leo."

He turned around, and there stood Amy. He could never tire of looking upon this breathtakingly beautiful girl in front of him.

"I changed my mind," she said simply.

He smiled at her, his eyes drinking her in. Her cheeks were a little red by the chill wind, and her eyes sparkled. Her hair blew wildly behind her. "Raph said you might be up-"

"Sssshh," he put a finger to his lips, shushing her. "Come here."

He put his hands around her waist, as if he was going to kiss her. His eyes were fixed on hers. "Close your eyes," he instructed softly. "Go on."

She did as she was told. He turned to face her forward, the way the ship was going. He pressed her gently to the rail, standing right behind her. Then he took her two hands and raised them until she was standing with her arms outstretched on each side. Amy was going along with him. When he lowered his hands, her arms stayed up...like wings.

"Do you trust me?" He asked sincerely.

"I trust you," she replied.

He put his hands around her waist to secure her position. "Okay. Open them."

Amy's eyes snapped open and she gasped. All she could see was the deep blue ocean in front of her. There was nothing in her field of vision but water. No ship, no ground, just her and Leo soaring above the body of water. The Atlantic unrolled towards her, a hammered copper shield under a dusk sky. There was only the wind, and the hiss of the water 50 feet below.

"I'm flying!" She exclaimed excitedly. "Leo!" She leaned forward, arching her back. Leo rested his face on her shoulder.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine," he sang softly, making them both smile.

Amy closed her eyes, feeling herself floating waistless far above the sea. She smiled dreamily, then leaned back, gently pressing her back against his plastron. He pushed forward slightly against her.

Slowly he raised his hands, arms outstretched, and they met hers...fingertips gently touching. Then their fingers intertwined. Moving slowly, their fingers caressed through and around each other, Leo embracing Amy and relishing the moment.

Leo tipped his face forward into her blowing hair, letting the scent of her wash over him, until his cheek was against her ear. She turned her face towards him, the closeness keeping them warm. Her lips were near his. She lowered her arms, turning further, until they kissed passionately in their own sky high world. He wrapped her arms around her from behind, and they kissed like this with her head turned and tilted back, surrendering to him, to the emotion, to the inevitable. They kissed, slowly and tremendously, and then with building passion.

The kiss was so powerful, both of them felt like one entity. As the ship sailed, the fast winds blew harshly on Leo and Amy. But it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered at that moment other than the love between them. She could feel her heart pounding in this magical moment.

Leo and the ship seemed to merge into one force of power and optimism, lifting her, buoying her forward onto a magical journey, soaring onward into a night without fear.

In the crow's nest, high above and behind them, lookout Frederick Fleet nudged his mate, Reginald Lee, pointing down at the figure in the bow. "Wish I had those bleedin' binoculars."

Leo and Amy, still kissing at the bow rail, dissolved slowly away, leaving the ruined bow of the wreck...

 _Present_

Amy blinks, seeming to come back to the present. She sees the wreck on the screen, the sad ghost ship deep in the abyss.

"That was the last time Titanic ever saw daylight."


	11. Chapter 11

**Angel: I'm going to update this every weekend until it's finished, so therefore, the poll will end when the last chapter of this story is updated.**

Donnie changes his cassette in his tape recorder, not wanting to miss a single word of this story.

"So we're up to the dusk on the night of the sinking. Six hours to go," he notes once he's recording again.

"Don't you love it? There's Splinter, he's standing there with the iceberg warning in his fucking hand..." Stockman paused, remembering the presence of Amy and not wanting to offend, "...excuse me...in his hand, and he's ordering more speed."

"26 years of experience working against him. He figures anything big enough to sink the ship they're going to see in time to turn. But the ship's too big, with too small a rudder...it can't corner worth shit. Everything he knows is wrong," Donnie says.

Amy is ignoring the conversation. She has the art-nouveau comb with the jade butterfly on the handle in her hands, turning it slowly. She is watching a monitor, which shows the ruins of Suite B-52-56.

 _April 14_ _th_ _, 1912_

Amy and Leo snuck into her stateroom, which was like a dream in the beautiful woodwork and satin upholstery, emerging from the rusted ruin. Amy felt like she was living that dream. The rest of her crowd was at dinner, or in the smoking room. She didn't care. She still felt like she was flying from her kiss with Leo. Her heart was right...she had made the right decision. She hoped she would make more decisions like that because now she was free. She knew fully well that she would lose the luxurious life she had lived, but it was worthless compared to Leo. He had a heart of gold, more than anyone she ever knew. He was more precious than all of the money she would be losing. Leo was overwhelmed by the opulence of the room. He set his sketchbook and drawing materials on the marble table.

"Will this light do? Don't artists need good light?" Amy asked.

"Zat is true, I am not used to working in such 'orreeble conditions," he said in a bad French accent and she laughed. He grinned at his accomplishment, marveling at the paintings that adorned her room. "Hey...Monet!" He crouched down next to the paintings stacked against the wall. "Isn't he great...the use of color? I saw him once...through a hole in this garden fence in Giverny."

Amy went into the adjoining walk-in wardrobe closet. He saw her go to the safe and started working the combination. He was fascinated.

"Xever insists on lugging this thing everywhere," she muttered.

"Should I be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Not as long as the cigars and brandy hold out."

She unlocked the safe. Glancing up, she met his eyes in the mirror behind the safe. She opened it and removed the necklace, then held it out to Leo who took it nervously.

"What is it? A sapphire?"

"A diamond. A very rare diamond, called the Heart of the Ocean."

Leo gazed at wealth beyond his comprehension.

"I want you to draw me like your French girl. Wearing this," she smiled at him, "Wearing only this."

He looked down at her, startled at her request. She nodded to confirm that it was what she wanted. The portrait was going to be a symbol that she was free. She was a little nervous, but she was sure of herself as she pushed the sketchpad into his hands.

Amy drew the butterfly comb out of her hair. She shook her head and her hair fell free around her waist.

Leo was laying out his pencils like surgical tools. His sketchbook was open and ready. He looked up as she came into the room, wearing a silk kimono. "The last thing I need is another picture of me looking like a china doll. As a paying customer, I expect to get what I want."

She handed him a dime and stepped back, parting the kimono. The blue stone lied on her light chocolatey breast. Her heart was pounding as she slowly lowered the robe. Leo looked so stricken, it was almost comical. The kimono dropped to the floor.

"Onto the bed, uh, couch!" Leo murmured.

She went over, trying to ignore her thumping heart. She laid on the couch.

"Tell me when it looks right to you."

"Uh...just bend your left leg a little and...and lower your head. Eyes to me. That's it," he encouraged, his hands shaking. He started to sketch, dropping his pencil. She stifled a laugh.

The charcoal glided across the paper as Leo brushed his mask tails behind his ear slit. His face was flushed as he studied every part of her body intently. "I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste. I can't imagine Monsieur Monet blushing," she teased.

"He does landscapes," he sweated. His eyes came up to look at her over the top edge of his sketchpad. This was an image she will carry for the rest of her life. He continued capturing her beauty on paper, time seeming to halt as Leo drew her, like the rest of the world had come to a standstill. Despite his nervousness, he drew with sure strokes, and what emerged was the best thing he had ever done. Her pose was languid, her hands beautiful, and her eyes radiated her beauty.

 _Present_

Even as a 101 year old, Amy's eyes are still the same as that painting. "My heart was pounding the whole time. It was the most erotic moment of my life...up till then at least."

A semicircle of listeners staring in rapt, frozen silence. The story of Leo and Amy has finally and completely grabbed them.

"What, uh...happened next?" Stockman asks.

Amy smiles. "You mean, did we 'do it?' "

 _1912_

Finally the drawing was done, and Amy emerged from her statue position on the couch. Leo signed it and handed it to Amy, who was in her kimono as she watched him.

 _"Sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Stockman."_

Amy gazed at the drawing. He had X-rayed her soul. "Date it, Leo. I want to always remember this night."

He did: April 14th, 1912. Amy meanwhile scribbled a note on a piece of Titanic stationary, though it was unknown what it said. She accepted the drawing from him, crossing the safe to the wardrobe. She put the diamond back in the safe, placing the drawing and note on top of it. She closed the door with a clunk.

* * *

Bradford entered from the Palm Court through the revolving door in the First Class Smoking Room, crossing the room to Xever. A fire was blazing in the marble fireplace, and the usual fatcats were playing cards, drinking and talking. Xever saw Bradford and detached from his group, going to him.

"None of the stewards has seen her," he reported.

Xever's voice was low and forceful, "This is ridiculous, Bradford. Find her."

* * *

Titanic glided across an unnatural sea, black and calm as a pool of oil. The ship lights were mirrored almost perfectly in the black water. The sky was brilliant with stars. A meteor traced a bright line across the heavens.

On the bridge, Captain Splinter peered out at the blackness ahead of the ship. Quartermaster Murakami brought him a cup of hot tea with lemon. It steamed in the bitter cold of the open bridge. Second Officer Lightoller was next to him, staring out at the sheet of black glass the Atlantic had become.

"I don't think I've ever seen such a flat calm, in 24 years at sea."

"Yes, like a mill pond. Not a breath of wind," Splinter replied.

"It's make the bergs harder to see, with no breaking water at the base," Lightoller noted.

"Mmmm. Well, I am off. Maintain speed and heading, Mr. Lightoller."

"Yes sir."

"And wake me, of course, if anything becomes in the slightest degree doubtful."

Amy, fully dressed now in a pale dress that didn't require a corset, returned to the sitting room. They heard a key in the lock. Amy took Leo's hand and led him slightly through the bedrooms. "My drawings!" he whispered, looking back. Bradford entered by the sitting room door.

"Miss Amelia? Hello?"

He heard a door opening and went through Xever's room toward hers. Amy and Leo came out of her stateroom, closing the door. She led him quickly along the corridor toward the B deck foyer. They were halfway across the open space when the sitting room door opened in the corridor, Bradford coming out. The valet saw Leo with Amy and hustled after them.

"Come on!" Amy told him and they broke into a run, surprising the few ladies and gentlemen about. Amy led him past the stairs to the bank of elevators. They ran into one, shocking the shell out of the operator. "Take us down. Quickly, quickly!"

The operator scrambled to comply. Leo even helped him close the steel gate. Bradford ran up as the lift started to descend. He slammed one hand on the bars of the gate. Amy made a very rude and unladylike gesture with one of her fingers, the couple laughing as Bradford disappeared above. The operator gaped at her. "Bye," Amy waved. _Sorry not sorry!_

Bradford emerged from another lift and ran to the one Leo and Amy were in. The operator was just closing the gate to go back up. Bradford ran around the bank of elevators and scanned the foyer...no Leo and Amy. He tried the stairs going down to F deck.

The F deck corridors were a functional space, with access to a number of machine spaces (fan rooms, boiler uptakes). Leo and Amy were leaning against a wall, laughing.

"Pretty tough for a valet, this fella," Leo commented. "He seems more like a cop."

"He's an ex-Pinkerton. Xever's father hired him to Xever out of trouble...to make sure he always got back to the hotel with his wallet and watch, after some crawl through the less reputable parts of town..."

"Kinda like we're doin' right now—uh oh!"

Bradford had spotted them from a cross-corridor nearby. He charged towards them. Leo and Amy ran around a corner into a blind alley. There was one door, marked Crew Only, and Leo flung it open. They entered a roaring ran room, with no way out but a ladder going down. Leo latched the deadbolt on the door, and Bradford slammed it against it a moment later. Leo grinned at Amy, pointing to the ladder.

"After you, m'lady."

Leo and Amy came down the escape ladder and looked around in amazement. It was like a vision of hell itself, with the roaring furnaces and black figures moving in the smoky glow. They ran the length of the boiler room, dodging amazed stokers, and trimmers with their wheelbarrows of coal.

Leo shouted over the noise, "Carry on! Don't mind us!"

They ran through the open watertight door into Boiler Room 6, laughing. Leo pulled her through the fiercely hot alley between two boilers and they wind up in the dark, out of sight of the working crew. Watching from the shadows, they saw the stokers working in the hellish glow, shoveling coal into the insatiable maws of the furnaces. The whole place thundered with the roars of the fire.

* * *

In the First Class Smoking Room, amid unperilled luxury, Xever sat at a card game, sipping brandy. "We're going like hell I tell you. I have fifty dollars that says we make it into New York Tuesday night!" Biggles betted.

Xever looked at his gold pocket watch and scowled, not listening.

* * *

The furnaces roared in the boiler room, silhouetting the glistening stokers. Amy signaled to stop as both of them caught their breath. Her forehead glistened with sweat, but was lit by the amber glow of the hell furnaces. Leo kissed her face, tasting the sweat trickling down from her forehead. He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her passionately. When he pulled away, he kept his nose on hers and grinned. She kissed his nose quickly and then pulled him towards another door, both of them laughing. They ran between the stacked cargo, relieved that it was a lot cooler than in the boiler room. The cargo hold was full of odds and ends, like an antique store. There was grand furniture and paintings, statues and luggage piled high.

Amy hugged herself against the cold, after the dripping heat in the boiler room. Amidst it all was William Carter's brand new Renault touring car, lashing down to a pallet. It looked like a royal coach from a fairy tale, its brass trim and headlamps nicely set off by its deep burgundy color.

Amy climbed into the plushy upholstered back seat, acting very royal. There were cut crystals bud vases on the walls back there, each containing a rose. Leo jumped into the driver's seat, enjoying the feel of the leather and wood.

"Where to, miss?" Leo put on a Cockney accent.

"To the stars," she said, smiling. She playfully grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into the back with her. He landed next to her, his breath seeming loud in the quiet darkness. They laid intertwined on the back seat, their hearts matching speed with anticipation. He looked at her and she was smiling. It was the moment of truth. All was silent, but only for a moment as Amy guided Leo's hand to her body. He recoiled, not because he didn't want to, but because he wanted it to be right.

"Are you sure?" He asked, running a thumb across the top of her hands. She exhaled slowly and nodded. He stroked her face, cherishing her. She kissed his three artist's fingers.

"Put your hands on me, Leo."

He kissed her passionately and she slid down in the seat under his welcome weight.


	12. Chapter 12

**Angel: So far, the Sonic X story is in the lead! And please don't ask me about movies right now. Titanic's already done, but I'm still in college. That fact doesn't mean I don't get work, you know. In order to do a movie, I'd either have to wait until the summer or until one of my stories is over. So, regarding Turtles Forever OR anything related to that, there's your answer. Right now I don't have time to do movies...**

They began to undress each other. They kissed passionately, consumed by the heat of the moment. He was gentle in his touch, but Amy pulled him towards her wanting more. Leo cradled her back with his arm and proceeded to make love to her, the love between the two of them enough to take them to their own world again.

In the wireless room, a brilliant arc of electricity filled, the sparks gaping of the Marconi instrument as Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips rapidly keyed out a message. Junior Operator Bride looked through the huge stack of outgoing messages swamping them.

"Look at this one, he wants his private train to meet him. La dee da." He slapped them down. "We'll be up all bloody night on this lot."

Phillips started to receive an incoming message from a nearby ship, the Leyland freighter Californian, which jammed his outgoing signal. At such close range, the beeps were deafening. "Christ! It's that idiot on the Californian."

Cursing, Phillips furiously keyed a rebuke.

* * *

Wireless Operator Cyril Evans pulled his earphone off his ear as the Titanic's spark deafened him. He translated the message for Third Officer Groves. "Stupid bastard. I try to warn him about the ice, and he says 'Keep out. Shut up. I'm working Cape Race.' "

"Now what's he sending?" Groves asked.

" 'No seasickness. Poker business good. Al.' Well, that's it for me. I'm shutting down." As Evans wearily switched off his generator, Groves went out on deck. The ship was stopped from the edge of a field of pack ice and icebergs stretching as far as the eye can see.

* * *

Titanic was steaming hellbent through the darkness, hurling up white water at the bows.

In the Renault in the cargo hold, the rear window was completely fogged up. Amy's hand came up, slamming against the glass for a moment, making a handprint in the veil of condensation. The two of them laid in embrace, not wanting to return to anything or anyone as Amy was covered in a blanket. Their faces were flushed and they looked at each other wonderingly. She put her hand to his face, as if making sure he was real. Amy looked at Leo, concerned.

"You're trembling."

"It's okay. I'm alright," he assured her and they shared a brief kiss before he placed his cheek against her chest. "Your heart...it's beating so fast." She hugged him to her, vowing to remember this moment forever.

* * *

The bow swept, lookouts Fleet and Lee stamping their feet and swinging their arms, trying to keep warm in the 22 knot freezing wind. It whipped vapor of their breath away behind.

"You can smell ice, you know, when it's near."

"Bollocks."

"Well I can."

In Boiler Room six, without hearing the words over the roar of the furnaces, stokers were telling two stewards which way Amy and Leo went. The stewards moved on toward the forward holds.

Xever stood at the open safe in his and Amy's suite. He stared at the drawing of Amy and his face clenched with fury. He read the note again.

 _Darling, now you can keep us both locked in your safe. Amy._

Bradford, standing behind him, looked over his shoulder at the drawing. Xever crumpled Amy's note, then took the drawing in both of his hands as if to rip it in half. He tensed to do it, but then he stopped himself.

"I have a better idea."

* * *

The two stewards entered the cargo hold. They had electric torches and played the beams around the hold. They spotted the Renault with its fogged up rear window and approached it slowly. The torch lighted up on Amy's handprint, which was still there. One steward whipped open the door.

"Got yer!"

But the back seat was empty.

* * *

Amy and Leo, fully dressed, came through a crew door onto the deck. They could barely stand, they were laughing so hard, recalling the confused expressions of the workers in the boiler rooms. Up above them, in the crow's nest, lookout Fleet heard the disturbance below and looked around and back down to the well deck, where he could see two figures embracing. Amy and Leo stood in each other's arms. Their breath clouded around them in the now freezing air, but they don't even feel the cold.

"When this ship docks, I'm getting off with you," she revealed.

He looked at her with a mix of bewilderment and glee. "This is crazy," he smiled, holding her tighter.

"I know. It doesn't make any sense. That's why I trust it," she laughed. He pulled her to him, kissing her fiercely. They never thought it was possible to love someone, but there it was. They loved each other with all of their hearts.

Fleet nudged Lee. "Cor...look at that, would ya?"

"They're a bloody sight warmer than we are."

"Well if that's what it takes for us two to get warm, I'd rather not, if it's all the same."

They both had a good laugh at that one. It was Fleet whose expression fell first. Glancing forward again, he did a double take. The color drained out of his face.

A massive iceberg right in their path, 500 yards out. "Bugger me!"

Fleet reached past Lee and rung out the lookout bell three times, then grabbed the telephone, calling the bridge. He waited precious seconds for it to be picked up, never taking his eyes off the black mass ahead. "Pick up, ya bastard."

Inside the enclosed warehouse, Sixth Officer Moody walked unhurriedly to the telephone, picking it up.

"Is someone there?"

"Yes. What do you see?"

"Iceberg right ahead!"

"Thank you." He hung up, turning to Jared. "Iceberg right ahead!"

Jared saw it and rushed to the engine room telegraph. While signaling 'Full Speed Astern,' he yelled to Quatermaster Hitchins, who was at the wheel. "Hard a' starboard."

Moody was standing behind Jared. "Hard a' starboard. The helm is hard over, sir."

Chief Engineer Bell was just checking the soup he was warming on a steam manifold when the engine telegraph clanged, then went...incredibly...to Full Speed Astern. He and the other engineers just stared at it for a second, unbelieving what they were seeing. Then Bell reacted.

"Full Astern. FULL ASTERN!"

The engineers and greasers, like madmen, rushed to close steam valves and started breaking the almighty propeller shafts, big as Sequoias, to a stop. In Boiler Room six, leading stoker Frederick Barrett was standing with 2nd Engineer James Hesketh when the red warning light and stop indicator came on.

"Shut all dampers! Shut 'em!" Hesketh ordered.

From the bridge Jared watched the burg growing...straight ahead. The bow finally started to come left (since the ship turned the reverse of the helm setting). Jared's jaw clenched as the bow turned with agonizing slowness. He held his breath as the horrible physics played out.

In the crow's nest, Frederick Fleet braced himself. The bow of the ship thundered and...

KRUUUUNCH!

The ship hit the berg on its starboard bow.


	13. Chapter 13

**Angel: Sorry for the late update, I caught up in some things. And Mom is asking me to drive her out to the store, so I can't stay long XD Enjoy! *speeds out the room***

Underwater, the ice smashed into the steel hull plates. The iceberg bumped and scraped along the side of the ship. Rivets popped as the steel plate of the hull flexes under the load. The two stewards in the cargo hold staggered as the hull buckled in four feet with a sound like thunder. Like a sledgehammer beating along outside the ship, the berg splitting the hull plates and the sea poured in, sweeping them off their feet. The icy water swirled around the Renault as the men scrambled for the stairs.

* * *

On G deck, Raph was tossed in his bunk by the impact. He heard a sound like the greatly amplified squeal of a skate on ice.

In Boiler Room six, Barret and Hesketh staggered as they heard the rolling thunder of the collision. They saw the starboard side of the ship buckling in toward them and were almost swept off their feet by a rush of water coming in about two feet above the floor.

* * *

On the forward well deck, Leo and Amy broke their kiss and looked up in astonishment as the berg sailed past, blocking out the sky like a mountain. Chunks of ice showered the deck where Leo and Amy stood. "Get back," Leo held onto her arm as he pulled her away, Amy looking at the iceberg in astonishment and fear.

From the bridge, Jared rung the watertight door alarm. He quickly threw the switch that closed them.

"Hard a' port!"

Judging the berg to be amidships, he was trying to clear the stern.

Barrett and Hesketh heard the door alarm and scrambled through the swirling water to the watertight door between Boiler Rooms 5 and 6. The room was full of water vapor as the cold sea struck the red hot furnaces. Barrett yelled to the stokers scrambling through the door as it came down like a slow guillotine. "Go lads! Go! Go!"

He dove through into Boiler Room 5 just before the door rumbled down with a clang.

* * *

Leo and Amy rushed to the starboard rail in time to see the berg moving aft down the side of the ship.

In his stateroom, surrounded by piles of plans while making notes in his ever-present book, Andrews looked up at the sound of a cut-crystal light fixture tinkling like a windchime. He felt the shudder run through the ship. And it could be seen in his face. Too much of his soul was in this great ship for him not to feel its mortal wound.

In the First Class Smoking Room Biggles watched his highball vibrating on the table. In the Palm Court, with its high arched windows, Irma Brown held up her drink to a passing waiter. "Hey, can I get some ice here, please?"

Silently, a moving wall of ice filled the window behind her. She didn't see it. It disappeared astern.

* * *

In the crow's nest, Fleet turned to Lee. "Oy, mate...that was a close shave."

"Smell ice, can you? Bleedin' Christ!"

Jared stood on the bridge. The alarm bells still clattered mindlessly, seeming to reflect his inner state. He was in shock, unable to get a grip on what just happened. He just ran the biggest ship in history into an iceberg on its maiden voyage.

"Note the time," he said stiffly to Moody. "Enter it in the log."

Captain Splinter rushed out of his cabin onto the bridge, tucking in his collar. "What was that, Mr. Jared?"

"An iceberg, sir. I put her hard a' starboard and run the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hi...and I-"

"Close the emergency doors," Splinter ordered.

"The doors are closed," Jared reported.

Together they rushed out onto the starboard wing, and Jared pointed. Splinter looked into the darkness aft, then wheels around to Fourth Officer Boxhall. "Find the carpenter and get him to sound the ship."

* * *

In steerage, Raph came out into the hall to see what was going on. He saw dozens of rats running toward him in the corridor, fleeing the flooding bow. Raph jumped aside as the rats ran by. "Ma—che cazzo!"

In his stateroom, Mikey got out of his top bunk in the dark and dropped down to the floor with a splash. "Cor! What in shell-?!" He napped on the light. The floor was covered with 3 inches of freezing water, and more coming in. He pulled the door open, and stepped out into the corridor, which was flooded. Raph was running towards him, yelling something in Italian. Raph and Mikey started pounding on the doors, getting everybody up and out. The alarm spread in several languages.

A couple of people had come out into the corridor in robes and slippers. A steward hurried along, reassuring them.

"Why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder?" A woman asked.

"I shouldn't worry, ma'am. We've likely thrown a propeller blade, that's the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything?"

Slash Andrews brushed past them, walking fast and carrying an armload of rolled up ship's plans.

* * *

Leo and Amy were leaning over the starboard rail, looking at the hull of the ship.

"Looks okay. I don't see anything," Leo said.

"Could it have damaged the ship?" Amy questioned.

"It didn't seem like much of a bump. I'm sure we're okay."

Behind them a couple of steward guys were kicking the ice around the deck, laughing.

Anton Ismay, dressed in pajamas under the topcoat, hurried down the corridor, headed for the bridge. An officious steward named Barnes came along the other direction, getting the few concerned passengers back into their rooms.

"There's no cause for alarm. Please, go back to your rooms."

He was stopped in his tracks by Xever and Bradford. "Please sir, there's no emergency-"

"Yes there is, I have been robbed. Now get the Master at Arms. Now you moron!"

On the bridge, Splinter was studying the communicator. He turned to Andrews, who was standing behind him. "A five degree list in less than five minutes."

The ship's carpenter, John Hutchinson, entered behind him, out of breath and clearly unnerved. "She's making water fast...in the forepeak tank and the forward holds, in Boiler Room 6."

Ismay entered, his movements quick with anger and frustration. Splinter glanced at him with annoyance.

"Why have we stopped?"

"We've struck ice," Splinter answered.

"Well, do you think the ship was seriously damaged?"

Splinter glared, "Excuse me."

He pushed past him, with Andrews and Hutchinson in tow.

In Boiler Room 6, stokers and firemen were struggling to draw the fires. They were working in waist deep water churning around as it flowed in the boiler room, ice cold and swirling with grease from the machinery. Chief Engineer Bell came partway down the ladder, shouting. "That's it, lads. Get the hell up!"

They scrambled up the escape ladders.

On B deck, the gentlemen, now joined by another man, leaned on the forward rail watching the steerage men playing soccer with chunks of ice.

"I guess it's nothing too serious. I'm going back to my cabin to read."

A 20ish Yale man popped through the door wearing a topcoat over pajamas. "Say, did I miss the fun?"

Amy and Leo came up the steps from the well deck, which were right next to the three men. They stared as the couple climbed over the locked gate. A moment later, Splinter rounded the corner, followed by Andrews and Hutchinson. They had come down from the bridge by the outside stairs. The three men, their faces grim, pushed right past Leo and Amy. Andrews barely glanced at her.

"Can you shore up?" Splinter asked.

"Not unless the pumps get ahead."

"This is bad," Leo whispered to Amy.

She knew that this was serious. And as much as she loathed them now, she knew what they had to do.

"We have to tell Mother and Xever."

"Now it's worse."

"Come with me, Leo. I jump, you jump...right?" Amy asked softly.

"Right.

Leo followed Amy through the door inside the ship.


	14. Chapter 14

**Angel: Sonic X currently has close to 20 votes, I believe. But tomorrow I have classes for the entire day, so I won't be able to type as much for IMT the Movie, sadly. At least today I get a break from typing. And I haven't had to make up much work for school yet for the missed days due to the weather...**

Amy and Leo crossed the foyer, entering the corridor. By the time they had gotten up to the first class lobby, it seemed that the anxiety had spread there too. The rich folk were blissfully unaware of what was going on as the staff urged and insisted that they put on their lifebelts. Bradford was waiting for them in the hall as they approached the room.

"We've been looking for you, miss." He followed them and, unseen, moved close behind Leo and smoothly slipped the diamond necklace into the pocket of his overcoat.

Xever and Nadia waited in the sitting room, along with the Master at Arms and two stewards. There was silence as Amy and Leo entered. Nadia closed her robe at her throat when she saw Leo.

"Something serious has happened," Amy started.

"That's right. Two things dear to me have disappeared this evening. Now that one is back...I have a pretty good idea where to find the other." Xever turned to the Master at Arms. "Search him."

The Master at Arms stepped up to Leo. "Coat off, mate."

Bradford pulled at Leo's coat and Leo shook his head in dismay, shrugging out of it. The Master at Arms patted him down.

"This is horseshit."

"Xever, you can't be serious! We're in the middle of an emergency and you-"

She stopped when a steward pulled out the Heart of the Ocean out of the pocket of Leo's coat. "Is this it?"

Amy was stunned. Needless to say, so was Leo.

"That's it," Xever confirmed.

"Right then. Now don't make a fuss." He started to handcuff Leo.

"Don't you believe it, Amy. Don't!" Leo told her.

"He couldn't have," Amy murmured uncertainly.

"Of course he could. Easy enough for a professional. He memorized the combination when you opened the safe."

"But I was with him the whole time," Amy said.

He leaned to her, his voice low and cold. "Maybe he did it while you were putting your clothes back on."

"They put it in my pocket!" Leo argued.

Bradford was holding Leo's coat. "It's not even your pocket, son. 'Property of A.L Ryerson.' " He showed the coat to the Master at Arms. There was a label inside the collar with the owner's name.

"That was reported stolen today," Master at Arms realized.

"I was going to return it! Amy-"

Amy felt utterly betrayed, hurt, and confused. She shrunk away from him. She couldn't look at him in the eye. Their words echoed in her head and now it seemed very likely he was going to make off with the diamond. No, he wouldn't...she knew him. She interrupted that thought. Did she really know Leo? He started shouting to her as Bradford and the Master at Arms dragged him out into the hall.

"Amy, don't listen to them...I didn't do this! You know I didn't! You know it! Amy!"

Amy was devastated. Her mother laid a comforting hand on her shoulder as the tears welled up.

"Why do women believe men?"

* * *

Splinter and Andrews came down the steps to the Mail Sorting Room and found the clerks scrambling to put mail from the racks. They were furiously hauling wet sacks of mail up from the hold below.

Andrews climbed partway down the stairs to the hold, which was almost full. Sacks of mail floated everywhere. The lights were still on below the surface, casting an eerie glow. The Renault was visible under the water, the brass glinting cheerfully. Andrews looked down as the water covered his shoe, and scrambled back up the stairs.

On the bridge, Andrews unrolled a big drawing of the ship across the chartroom table. It was a side elevation, showing all the watertight bulkheads. His hands were shaking. Jared and Ismay hovered behind him and Splinter.

"When can we get underway, do ya think?" Ismay asked.

Splinter glared at him and turned his attention to Slash's drawing. The builder pointed to it for emphasis as he spoke.

"Water 14 feet above the keel in ten minutes...in the forepeak...in all three holds...and in Boiler Room 6."

"That's right," Splinter confirmed.

"Five compartments. She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached. But not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads...at E deck...from one to the next...back and back. There's no stopping it."

"The pumps-"

"The pumps buy you time...but minutes only. From this moment, no matter what we do, Titanic will flounder," Andrews interrupted grimly.

"But this ship can't sink!" Ismay exclaimed in disbelief.

"She is made of iron, sir. I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a mathematical certainty," Andrews confirmed.

Splinter looked like he had been gutpunched. "How much time?"

"...An hour, two at most."

Ismay reeled as his dream turned into his worst nightmare.

"And how many abroad, Mr. Jared?"

"Two thousand two hundreds souls abroad, sir," Jared reported.

There was a long pause before Splinter turned to Anton. "I believe you may get your headlines, Mr. Ismay."

* * *

Andrews was striding along the boat deck, as seamen and officers scurried to uncover the boats. Steam was venting from the pipes on the funnels overhead, and the din was horrendous. Speech was difficult adding to the crew's level of disorganization. Andrews saw some men fumbling with the mechanism of one of the Wellin davits and yelled at them over the roar of the steam.

"Turn to the right! Pull the falls taut before you unchock. Have you never had a boat drill?"

"No sir! Not with these new davits, sir."

He looked around, disgusted as the crew fumbled with the davits, and the tackle for the falls...the rope which were used to lower the boats. A few passengers were coming out on deck, hesitantly in the noise and bitter cold.

* * *

Inside Amy and Xever's suite, they could hear knocking and voices in the corridor.

"I had better go dress," Nadia left and Xever crossed to Amy. He regarded her coldly for a moment before slapping her across the face.

"It is a little slut, isn't it?" He spat.

To Amy, the blow was inconsequential compared to the blow in her heart had been given. Xever grabbed her shoulders roughly.

"Look at me, you little-"

There was a loud knock on the door and an urgent voice. The door opened and their steward put his head in.

"Sir, I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelt, and come up to the boat deck."

"Get out. We're busy," Xever told him.

The steward persisted, coming in to get the lifebelts down from the top of a dresser. "I'm sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Montes, but it's Captain's orders. Please dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight." He handed a lifebelt to Amy, who had a hand on her cheek. "Not to worry, miss, I'm sure it's just a precaution."

"This is ridiculous," Xever dismissed.

In the corridor outside the stewards were being so polite and obsequious they were conveying no sense of danger whatsoever. However, it's another story in...

In the steerage berthing aft, there was darkness. Then a bang! The door is thrown open and the lights snapped on by a steward. The Cartmell family rouses from a sound sleep.

"Everybody up. Let's go. Put your lifebelts on."

In the corridor outside, another steward is going from door to door along the hall, pouncing and yelling. "Lifebelts on. Lifebelts on. Everybody up, come on. Lifebelts on." People come out of the doors behind the steward, perplexed. In the foreground, a Syrian woman asks her husband what was said and he just shrugs.

Phillips looked shocked. "CQD, sir?" He was talking to Splinter.

"That's right. The distress call. CQD. Tell whoever responds that we are going down by the head and need immediate assistance." He hurried out.

"Blimey."

"Maybe you ought to try that new distress call...S.O.S." Bride grinned. "It may be our only chance to use it." Phillips laughed in spite of himself and started sending history's first S.O.S. Dit dit dit, da da da, dit dit dit...over and over.

Slash Andrews looked around in amazement on the boat deck. The deck was empty except for the crew fumbling with the davits. He yelled over the roar of the steam to First Officer Jared. "Where are all the passengers?"

"They've all gone back inside. Too damn cold and noisy for them." Andrews felt like he was in a bad dream. He looked at his pocketwatch and headed for the foyer entrance.

On the A deck foyer, a large number of first class passengers had gathered near the staircase. They were getting indignant about the confusion. Amy herself felt really sick in her stomach at the moment. Everything was spiraling downwards and her worst fear about the ship seemed to dawn in her mind. Irma Brown snagged a passing young steward. "What's doing, sonny? You've got us all trussed up and now we're cooling our heels." The young steward backed away, actually stumbling on the stairs.

"Sorry, ma'am. Let me go and find out."

The jumpy piano rhythm of 'Alexander's Ragtime Band' came out of the first class lounge a few yards away. Band leader Wallace Hartley had assembled some of his men on Captain's orders, to allay panic. Montes' entourage came up to the A-deck foyer. Xever was carrying the lifebelts, almost as an afterthought. Amy was like a sleepwalker.

"It's just the God damned English doing everything by the book," Xever sneered.

Nadia had placed her velvet gloves on her hand. "There's no need for language, Mr. Montes," she said firmly before turning to Ann. "Go back and turn the heater on in my room, so it won't be too cold when we get back." Slash Andrews entered, looking around the magnificent room, which he knew was doomed. Amy, standing nearby, saw his heartbroken expression. She walked over to him and Xever went after her.

Her heart broke into pieces just as she saw his expression. "I saw the iceberg, Mr. Andrews. And I see it in your eyes. Please tell me the truth," she said, hoping her worst assumption was not correct. Mr. Andrews looked around and turned to them.

"The ship will sink."


	15. Chapter 15

Her mouth fell open. Her worst assumption came very real. It couldn't be...happening. She felt the blood drain from her face. "You're certain?" She asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes. In an hour or so...all this...will be at the bottom of the Atlantic." Amy's hand went slowly to her mouth, her eyes popped.

"What?" Xever asked in disbelief, his turn to be shocked. The Titanic? Sinking?

"Please tell only who you must. I don't want to be responsible for a panic," Slash pleaded softly. "And get to a boat quickly. Don't wait. You remember what I told you about the boats?"

"Yes, I understand," Amy nodded. "Thank you." She swallowed. This was like a realistic and uncommon nightmare. Trapped and unable to escape reality...just like before she met Leo...Slash went off, urging passengers to put on their lifebelts and reach the lifeboats.

Bradford and the Master at Arms were handcuffing Leo to a 4 inch water pipe as a crewman rushed in anxiously and almost blurted to the Master at Arms. "You're wanted by the purser, sir. Urgently."

"Go on. I'll keep an eye on him," Bradford offered. Bradford pulled out a pearl handled Colt .45 automatic from under his coat. The Master at Arms nodded and tossed the handcuff key to Bradford before leaving with the crewman. Bradford flipped the key in the air, catching it.

Junior Wireless Operator Bride was relaying a message to Captain Splinter from the Cunard Liner Venus on the bridge. "Venus says they're making 17 knots, full steam for them, sir."

"And she's the only one who's responding?" Splinter asked.

"The only one close, sir. She says they can be here in four hours."

"Four hours!" The enormity of it hit Splinter like a sledgehammer blow. "Thank you, Bride." He turned as Bride exited, and looked out onto the blackness.

"My God."

* * *

Out on the boat deck, Lightoller had his boats swung out. He was standing amidst a crowd of uncertain passengers in all states of dress and undress. One first class woman is barefoot. Others were in stockings. The maître of the restaurant was in top hat and overcoat. Others were still in evening dress, while some were in bathrobes and kimonos. Women were wearing lifeboats over velvet gowns, then topping it with sble stoles. Some brought jewels, other books, even small dogs.

Lightoller saw Splinter walking stiffly towards him and quickly went to him. He yelled in the captain's ear, through cupped hands, over the roar of the steam. "Hadn't we better get the woman and children into the boats, sir?" Splinter just nods, a bit abstractly. The fire had gone out of him. Lightoller saw the truth in his face.

He turned to the men. "Right! Start the loading. Women and children!" The appalling din of escaping steam abruptly cut him off, leaving a suddenly unearthly silence in which Lightoller's voice echoed. Wallace Hartley raised his violin to play.

"Number 26. Ready and..." The band had reassembled just outside the first class entrance, port side, near where Lightoller was calling for the boats to be loaded. They struck up a waltz, lively and elegant. The music wafted all over the ship.

"Ladies, please, step into the boat." Finally, one woman stepped across the gap and into the boat, terrified of the drop to the water far below.

"You watch. They'll put us off in these silly little boats to freeze, and we'll all be back on board by breakfast."

* * *

Xever, Amy, and Nadia came out of the doors near the band. "My brooch, I left my brooch! I must have it!" She turned to go back to her room, but Xever grabbed Nadia by the arm, refusing to let go. The firmness of his hold surprised her.

"Stay here." Nadia saw his expression, and knew fear for the first time.

It was chaos in the steerage aft, with stewards pushing their way through narrow corridors clogged with people carrying suitcases, duffel bags, children. Some had lifebelts on, others didn't. "I told the stupid sods no luggage. Aw, bloody hell!" The second steward exclaimed. He threw up his hand at the sight of a family, loaded down with cases and bags, completely blocking the corridor.

Raph and Mikey pushed past the stewards, going the other way. They reached a huge crowd gathered at the bottom of the main third class stairwell. Raph spotted Mona with the rest of her family, standing patiently with suitcases in hand. He reached her and she grinned, hugging him.

Mikey pushed to where he could see what was holding up the group. There was a steel gate across the top of the stairs, with several stewards and seamen on the other side.

"Stay calm, please. It's not time to go up to the boats yet." Near Mikey, an Irishwoman stood stoically with two small children and their battered luggage.

"What are we doing, mummy?" The little boy questioned.

"We're just waiting, dear. When they finish putting first class people in the boats, they'll be startin' with us, and we'll want to be all ready, won't?" The two nodded.

On the starboard side, boat 7 is less than half full, with 28 aboard a boat made for 65. "Lower away!" Jared ordered. "By the left and right together, steady lads!"

The boat lurched as the falls started to pay out through the pulley blocks. The women gasped. The boat descended, swaying and jerking, toward the water 60 feet below. The passengers looked absolutely terrified.

* * *

Tracking along the rows of portholes angling down into the water, they glowed green under the surface. One of them had submerged, Leo looking apprehensively at the water rising up the glass. He sat chained to the water pipe, next to the porthole. Bradford sat on the edge of a desk. He pulled a .45 bullet on the desk and watched it roll across and fall off. He picked up the bullet. "You know...I believe this ship may sink."

Leo said nothing, since he knew the truth himself. Xever framed him, he knew he did just so he could sever the love between him and his Ames. Bradford crossed over to Leo. "I've been asked to give you this small token of our appreciation..." He punched Leo hard in the face, knocking the wind out of him. "Compliments of Mr. Xever Montes."

Bradford flipped the handcuff key in the air, caught it, and put it in his pocket. He exited, Leo left gasping as he was still handcuffed to the pipe.

* * *

At the stairwell rail on the bridge wing, Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Bill lit the first distress rocket. It shot in the sky and exploded with a thunderclap over the ship, sending out white starbursts which lit up the entire deck as they fell.

With Anton Ismay, the Managing Director of the White Star Line was cracking. Already at the breaking point from his immense guilt, the rocket panicked him. He started shouting at the officers struggling with the falls of boat 5. "There is no time to waste!" He waved his arms. "Lower away! Lower away! Lower away!"

Fifth Officer Timothy, a baby-faced 28, and the youngest officer, looked up from the tangled falls at the madman. "Get out of the way, man!"

"Do you know who I am?"

Timothy, not having a clue, squared up to him. "I don't know...but you're a passenger. And I'm an officer. Now do what you're told! ...I love saying that." He turned to the other men. "Steady, men! Stand by the falls!"

"Doofus," Anton murmured as he backed away.

Lightoller was loading the boat near Xever and Amy. "Women and children only! Sorry sir, no gentlemen yet." Another rocket burst overhead, lighting the crowd. Startled faces turned upward, fear now in their eyes. Amy watched as people saying their farewells and her eyes itched. She stepped closer to the boat as husbands and fathers said goodbye to their children. Lovers and friends parted and she wondered about Leo, but her heart broke when she thought about him. Nearby Irma was trying to persuade a reluctant first class woman top hop on board the lifeboat.

"Come on, you heard the man. Get in the boat, sister."

"Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?" Nadia asked loudly, Amy glaring at her. Her stupid nonsense was enough for her to throttle her, for goodness sake, could she not see what was happening? "I hope they're not too crowded."

"Oh, mother...shut up!" Amy snarled, Nadia freezing with her mouth open. Amy held her firmly on her shoulders. "Don't you get it? The water is freezing and there aren't enough lifeboats...not enough by half! Half the people on this ship are going to die!"

"Not the better half," Xever murmured and Amy heard it. She glowered at him, her anger reaching boiling point right now. She felt like she had been slapped in the face again as she knew what he had meant. Leo was third class and he had zero chance to make it to the lifeboats. Another rocket burst overhead, bathing her face in white light.

"You unimaginable bastard," she murmured.

"Come on, Ruth, get in the boat. These are the first class seats right up here, that's it." Irma practically handed her over to Lightoller, then looked around for some other women who might need a push. "Come on, Amelia. You're next, darlin'."

She felt like someone had trickled cold water down her spine. She took a step back. She couldn't do it. She couldn't move towards the boat because she felt a hot bout of guilt wash over her like a fast spreading virus. She saw this as a chance to leave her mother, a chance to show that she can do whatever she wanted, to completely break the chains and throw them away. She couldn't leave without Leo. She knew he didn't truly steal from her and she didn't care right now about her mother or Xever. She loved Leo more than she loved her family. She shook her head.

"Amelia, get in the boat!" Nadia hissed, looking around in embarrassment at her daughter's behavior.

"Goodbye, mother," she said without regret, turning back to the ship and running.


	16. Chapter 16

**Angel: There's only 6 more chapters left, guys. Don't assume that it's ending THAT soon. I still got a few more weekends to post this. I think Sonic X has over 30 votes now? I lost count XD**

Amy heard her mother screaming for her, calling out her name but she ignores her and she ran towards the door when Xever grabbed her arm roughly. A disgusted look was etched on his face. "Where are you going? To him? Is that it? To be a whore to that gutter rat?!" He exclaimed.

"I'd rather be his whore than your wife," she hissed. He clenched his jaw and squeezed her arm viciously, pulling her back towards the lifeboat. Amy struggled before hawking up her throat, spitting onto Xever's face just like Leo had showed her. He let go, putting a hand to his face as she ran away from him.

"Lower away!" Lightoller ordered.

"Amelia! AMELIA!" Nadia's voice echoed.

"Stuff a sock in it, would ya, Nadia. She'll be along," Irma dismissed her. The boat lurched down as the falls were paid out.

With Amy, there was a crowd of first class passengers and she pushed past them, barely caring. She looked back, seeing a furious Xever after her. She ran up to two proper looking men. "That man tried to take advantage of me in the crowd!" She pointed at Xever. Appalled, they turned to see Xever running towards them. Amy ran on as the two men grabbed Xever, restraining him. She ran through the first class entrance. Xever broke free and ran after her. He reached the entrance, but ran into a knot of people coming out. He pushed rudely past them...

He ran in, and down the landing, pushing past the gentlemen and ladies who were filling up the stairs. He scanned the A deck foyer, but Amy was gone.

* * *

The hull of Titanic loomed over boat 6 like a cliff. Its enormous mass was suddenly threatening to those in the tiny boat. Quartermaster Bill, at the tiller, wanted nothing but to get away from the ship. Unfortunately, his two seamen can't row. They flailed like a duck with a broken wing. "Keep pulling...away from the ship. Pull."

"Ain't you boys ever rowed before? Here, gimme those oars. I'll show ya how it's done," Irma climbed over Nadia to get at the oars, stepping on her feet. Around them the evacuation was in full swing, with boats in the water, others being lowered.

* * *

Leo pulled at the pipe with all his strength. It wasn't gonna budge. He heard a gurgling sound. Water poured underneath the door, spreading rapidly across the floor.

"Shit."

He tried to pull one hand out of the cuffs, working until the skin was raw...no good.

"Help! Somebody! Can anybody hear me?!" He called out, but since no one was around to hear him, the mutant turtle was in serious trouble. "This could be bad."

The corridor outside was deserted. Flooded a couple of inches deep. Leo's voice came faintly through the door.

Slash was opening stateroom doors, checking that people were out. "Anyone in here?" Amy ran up to him, breathless.

"Mr. Andrews, thank god! Where would the Master at Arms take someone under arrest?!" She asked him with urgency in her voice.

"What? You have to get to a boat, right away!" He told her.

"No! I'll do this with or without your help, sir. But without will take longer," she said.

Slash hesitated before speaking. "Take the elevator to the very bottom, go left, down the crewman's passage, then make a right." She nodded, trying to remember everything he said.

"Bottom, left, right. I have it."

"Hurry, Amelia," he told her, her face laced with worry.

Amy ran up as the last elevator operator was closing his lift to leave. "Sorry, Miss, the lifts are closed-" the brunette, having enough, grabbed his jacker and shoved him back into the lift.

"I'm through with being polite, god dammit! Now take me down, _right now_ , or I will-"

"Yes, yes, right away!" He exclaimed nervously, fumbling to start the lift. It went down.

* * *

Irma and the two seamen were rowing, and they had made it a hundred feet or so. Enough to see that the ship had angled down into the water, with the bow rail less than ten feet above the surface. "Come on girls, join in, it'll keep you warm. Let's go, Nadia. Grab an oar!"

Nadia just stared at the spectacle of the great liner, its rows of lights blazing, slanting down into the sullen black mirror of the Atlantic.

Through the wrought iron door of the elevator car, Amy could see the decks going past after a few minutes. The lift slowed down and suddenly ice water swirled around her legs. She screamed in surprised, and so did the operator. She went over to the door, drawing it open and going through the lift. It shocked the hell out of her as the water was deathly cold. She hitched up her floor-length skirt so she could move. The lift went back up behind her, but she didn't really care. She looked around for the path.

"Left, crew passage," she murmured as she recalled the directions.

She spotted it and slogged down the flooded corridor. The place was understandably deserted and she was on her own.

"Right, right...right."

She turned into a cross-corridor, splashing down the hall. A row of doors on each side.

"Leo? Leeeoooo?!"

Leo was hopelessly pulling on the pipe again, straining until he turned red. He collapsed back onto the bench, realizing he was screwed. Then he heard her through the door.

His Ames.

"AMES! In here!"

Amy heard his voice behind her and spun around, turning back. She located the right door, pushing it open to create a small wave. She splashed over Leo as she put her arms around him.

"Leo! I'm sorry...I'm so sorry," she sobbed. They were so happy to see each other and if he could move, he would kiss her right there and then.

"That guy Bradford put it in my pocket," Leo explained.

"I know, I know," she told him.

"See if you can find a key for these. Try those drawers. It's a little silver one, Ames." She kissed his face and went to go through the desk, checking the cupboard and drawers. "Ames." She turned to him. "How did you find out I didn't do it?"

"I didn't," she looked at him. "I just realized I already knew." They smiled at each other.

"Keep looking," she went back to ransacking the room, searching again. Leo saw movement out the porthole, looking out. A lifeboat hit the surface of the water. She scanned the open cabinet for any silver keys, but there was no silver key in sight.

"These are all brass ones! There's no key in here," she breathed hard. They looked around the water, now almost two feet deep. Leo had pulled his feet up onto the bench.

"Ames, you have to go for help," he told her.

She didn't want to leave him, but she nodded and sloshed over to him. She kissed him briefly. "I'll be right back." She ran out, pushing a box away from her and out the door.

"I'll just wait here," he called out, since he couldn't do much handcuffed. He looked down at the swirling water.

Amy focused on heading down the wall to a stairwell going up to the next deck, her long skirt leaving a trail as she climbed up the stairs. Her coat weight was slowing her down, so she took it off. She bounded up the stairs, finding herself in a long corridor of steerage hallways. A long groan of stressing metal echoed along the hall as the ship continued to settle, her heart beating wild in fear. She ran down the hall, really hoping for a miracle to find someone to save Leo.

"Hello? Somebody?!"

She turned a corner and ran along another corridor in a daze. The hall sloped down into water, which, shimmered, reflecting the light. The margin of the water crept towards her. A young man appeared, running through the water, sending up geysers of spray. He pelted past her without slowing down, his eyes crazed...

"Help me! We need help!"

He didn't look back. It was like a bad dream. The hull gonged with terrifying sounds. The lights flickered and went out, leaving utter darkness. A beat, then they came back on. She found herself hyperventilating. That one moment of darkness was the most terrifying moment of her life. A steward ran around the nearest corner, his arms full of lifebelts. He was upset to see someone still in his section. He grabbed her arm forcefully, pulling her along with him like a wayward child.

"Come on, then, let's get you topside, miss. That's right."

"Wait. Wait!" She protested. "I need your help. There's someone here trapped-"

"No need for panic, miss. Come along!"

"No, let me go! You're going the wrong way!" He wasn't listening and he won't let her go. "LISTEN!" She screamed, and when he turned, she punched him in the nose. Shocked, he let her go and staggered back, his nose bleeding.

"To hell with you!" He ran off. She turned and saw a glass case with a fire axe inside. She went over to it and broke the glass with a fire hose next to it. She took the axe in her hands, heading back the way she came.

She looked down and gasped. The water had flooded the bottom five steps. She went down and had to crouch to look along the corridor to the room where Leo was trapped. Amy plunged into the water, which was up to her waist...she went forward, holding the axe above her head in two hands. She grimaced at the pain from the literally freezing water.

Leo had climbed up on the bench, hugging the waterpipe. Amy waded in, holding the axe above her head. "Will this work?"

"We'll find out." They were both terrified, but trying to keep panic at bay. Her teeth were chattering from the dropping temperature. Leo positioned the chain connecting to the two cuffs, stretching it out across the steel pipe. The chain is, of course, very short and his exposed wrists were on either side of it.

"Try a couple of practice swings," Leo encouraged, not that he didn't trust her. Amy hefted the axe and hit it into a wooden cabinet. "Now try to hit the same mark again." She swung hard and the blade hit in four inches from the mark. "Okay, that's enough practice."

He winced, bracing himself as she raised the axe. She had to hit a target about an inch wide with all the force she could muster. And she only had one chance, she couldn't mess this up.

"You can do it, Ames. Hit it as hard as you can. I trust you," he told her softly. He closed his eyes and so did she. She swung down and gingerly opened her eyes to see Leo grinning with two separate cuffs. Amy dropped the axe, all the strength going out of her. He kissed her all over her face as a reward.

"Let's go," he jumped down into the water next to her. "Shit! This is cold, oh shit! Shit!"

They left the room and waddled out into the hall. She started going for the stairs, but Leo stopped her, since there's only about a foot of the stairwell visible.

"Too deep. We gotta find another way out."


	17. Chapter 17

**Angel: I was having update problems last weekend, so sorry XD I'll post the next chapter when I get home from school. But regarding the 2018 reboot, I already addressed this on my profile. And I'm NOT having Amy being paired up with Raph. She doesn't like Leo just because he's the leader, sheesh...but Sonic X is probably gonna win...*groans, hitting my head against a table***

Tight on the letters Titanic painted two feet high on the bow of the doomed steamer. Once 50 feet above the waterline, they now quietly slipped below the surface. Gold on black, rippling and dimming to a pale green as they went deeper.

On boat six, Nadia looked back at the Titanic, transfixed by the sight of the dying liner. The bow spirit was now barely above the waterline. Another of Boxhall's rockets exploded overhead. K-BOOM! It lit up the whole area, half a dozen boats in the water as they spread out from the ship.

"Now there's something you don't see every day," Irma murmured.

On E deck, the widest passageway in the ship, it was used by crew and steerage alike, almost running the length of the ship. Right now steerage passengers moved along it like refugees, heading aft. CRASH! A wooden doorframe splinters and the door burst open under the force of Leo's shoulder. Leo and Amy stumbled through and into the corridor. A steward, who was herding people along, marched over to them.

"Here you! You'll have to pay for that, you know." Amy gritted her teeth as Leo took her hand and walked with her. Didn't he care that the ship was sinking? "That's White Star Line property-"

They turned around and yelled, "SHUT UP!"

Leo led her past the dumbfounded steward. They joined the steerage stragglers going aft. In places the corridor was almost completely blocked by large families carrying their luggage. An Irish mutant, probably a meerkat, gave Amy a blanket, more for modesty because the brunette was blue-lipped and shivering. "Here, lass, cover yourself."

Leo rubbed her arms, trying to warm her up as they walked along. The mutant's husband offered them a flask of whiskey. "This'll take the chill off." Amy took the flask and took a swig, her body instantly warmed up a bit. She offered it to Leo and he grinned, taking a drink himself. He tried a number of doors and iron gates along the way, finding them all locked.

On the boat deck, the action was moved to the aft group of boats, numbers 9, 11, 13, and 15 on the starboard side. 10, 12, 14, and 16 were on the port side. The pace of work was more frantic. Crew and officers were running now to work the davits, their previous complacency gone.

Xever pushed through the crowd, scanning for Amy. Around him was chaos and confusion. A woman was calling for a child who had become separated from the crowd. A man was shouting over people's heads. A woman took hold of Lightoller's arm as he was about to launch boat 10.

"Will you hold the boat a moment? I have to run back to my room for something-" the officer grabbed her and shoved her bodily into the boat.

"She's the last. Lower away!" Slash rushed up to him just then.

"Why are the boats being launched half full?!" He demanded. Lightoller stepped past him, helping a seamen clear a snarled fall.

"Not now, Mr. Andrews." Slash pointed down the water.

"There, look...twenty or so in a boat built for sixty five. And I saw one boat with only 12. 12!"

"Well...we were not sure of the weight-"

"Rubbish!" Slash interrupted. "They were tested in Belfast with the weight of 70 men. Now fill these boats, Lightoller. Fill them!"

With Xever, Bradford hurried towards him through the aisle connecting the port and starboard sides of the boat. "She's not on the starboard side either."

"We're running out of time and this strutting martinet," he gestured to Lightoller, "isn't letting any men in at all."

"The one on the other side is letting men in," Bradford explained.

"Then that's our play. But we're still going to need some insurance," Xever thought of a plan before starting off forward. "Come on." Xever charged off, heading forward, followed by Bradford. A finely dressed couple are arguing.

"Please, hon, get into the boat."

"No!" She declared. "We've been together for 40 years, and where you go, I go. Don't argue with me, Kirby, you know it does no good." He looked at her with sadness and great love. They embraced gently.

"Lower away!"

At the bow, the place where Leo and Amy first kissed, the bow railing went underwater. Water swirled around the captsans and windlasses on the foc'sle deck. Splinter strode over to the bridge rail, looking down at the well deck. Water was stripped over the sides, the well deck awash. Two men ran across the deck, their feet sending up spray. Behind Splinter, Boxhall firing another rocket.

On the E deck corridor, Raph was standing with Mona and her family. He heard Leo's voice.

"Raphael! Raph!"

Raph turned and saw the couple pushing through the crowd. He and Leo hugged like brothers.

"The boats are all going," he told them.

"We gotta get up there or we're gonna be gargling ice water. Where's Mikey?" Leo said in a determined voice. Raph pointed over the heads of the solidly packed crowd to the stairwell. Mikey had his hands on the bars of the steel gate, which blocked the head of the stairwell. The crew opened the gate a foot or so, a few woman squeezing through.

"Women only! No men! No men!"

But some terrified men, not understanding English, tried to rush through the gap, forcing the gate open. The crewmen and stewards pushed them back, shoving and punching them.

"Get back! Get back, you lot!" The second steward turned to a crewman. "Lock it!" They struggled to get the gate closed again, while the second steward brandished a small revolver. Another held a fire axe. They locked the gate, a cry going among the crowd, who surged forward, pounding against the steel and shouting in several languages.

"For the love of God, dude, there are women and children down here! Let us through so we can have a chance!" Mikey yelled over the commotion. But the crewmen were scared now. They had let the situation get out of hand, and now they had a mob. Mikey pointed to the steward threateningly, pushing his way back through the crowd and going down the stairs. He rejoined Leo, Amy, and Raph.

"Leo!"

"Mikey! Can we get out?" Leo asked.

"It's hopeless that way," Mikey shook his head.

"Well, whatever we're going to do, we better do it fast," Leo said. Raph turned to Mona, praying he could make himself understand.

"Everyone...all of you...come with me now. We go to the boats. We go to the boats. Capito? Come now!" He used a lot of hand gestures. They couldn't understand what he was trying to say. They could see his urgency, but the father shook his head. He would not panic, and he would not let his family go with this turtle. Raph turned to Mona.

"Mona...per favore...please...come with me, I am lucky. Is my destiny to go to America." She kissed him, stepping back to be with her family. Leo put a hand on his shoulder, his eyes saying 'let's go.' "I will never forget you." He turned to Leo, who led the way out of the crowd. Raph turned back, seeing Mona's face disappear into the crowd.

In Xever and Amy's suite, Xever opened his safe and reached inside. As Bradford watches, he pulled out two stacks of bills, still banded by bank wrappers. Then he took out the Heart of the Ocean, putting it into the pocket of his overcoat, and locked the safe. He held up the stack of bills. "I make my own luck."

Bradford put the .45 in his waistband. "So do I."

Xever grinned, putting the money in his pocket as they left.

Leo, Amy, Raph, and Mikey were lost, looking for a way out. They pushed past confused passengers, past a mother changing her baby's diaper on top of an upturned steamer trunk, past a woman arguing heatedly with a man in Sero-Croatian, a wailing child next to them...past a man kneeling to console a woman who was just sitting on the floor, sobbing...and past another man with an English/Arabian dictionary, trying to decipher what the sign said while his wife and children wait patiently. Leo and the others came up a narrow stairwell and they went up two decks before they were stopped by a small group pressed up against a steel gate. The steerage men were yelling at a scared steward.

"Go to the main stairwell, with everyone else. It'll all get sorted out there."

Leo went up to the gate. "Open the gate!"

"Go back down the main stairwell," the steward said.

"Open the gate right now!" Leo pointed at him threateningly.

"Go back down the main stairwell, like I told you." Leo turned to Amy and she gave a hopeless look. Leo shook the gates violently, yelling at the steward.

"GOD DAMMIT! SON OF A BITCH!" He grabbed one end of a bench bolted to the floor of the landing, starting to pull on it. Raph and Mikey pitched in until the bolts sheared and it broke free. Amy figured out what they were doing and cleared a path up the stairs between the waiting people.

"Move aside! Quickly, move aside!" She ordered, pushing people backwards to the wall.

Leo, Raph, and Mikey ran up the steps with the bench and rammed it into the gate with all their strength. It ripped loose from its tracks.

"Again!" Leo yelled. They pushed the bench with an almighty force and the bench broke through the gates.

"You can't do that!" The steward yelled as people started to move towards past the gate. Amy went after Leo.

"Let's go, Ames!" Leo said, holding onto her hand.

"You can't go up there! You can't do this!" The steward protested. Mikey punched the steward, knocking him off his feet and cold out onto the floor. Amy sighed in relief just as she walked in the corridor, holding Leo's hand. She believed that they were going to make it out of here safely. Although the ripple of fear couldn't leave her that perhaps one, or both of them, would die tonight.


	18. Chapter 18

**Angel: I'm baaaack! My teacher got sick, so my last class was cancelled. Thank God...I'll post for IMT the Movie today too since I wasn't able to update that over the weekend as well. 4 more chapters...cry D: Even though I'm done with this, I had a lot of fun writing this one...**

Nadia rowed with Irma, two other women, and the incompetent sailors. She rested on her oars, exhausted, and looked back at the ship.

It slanted down in the water, still ablaze with light. Nothing was above water forward of the bridge except for the foremast. Another rocket went off, lighting up the entire area...there were a dozen boats moving outward from the ship.

At the boat deck rail, Splinter was shouting at boat 6 through a large metal megaphone. "Come back! Come back to the ship!" Chief Officer Wilde joined him, blowing his silver whistle.

The whistle came shrilly across the water. Quartermaster Bill gripped the rudder in fear. "The suction will pull us right down if we don't keep going."

Irma turned to the others on the boat. "We got room for lots more. I say we go back."

"No! It's our lives now, not theirs. And I'm in charge of this boat! Now row!" He argued.

Splinter, at the rail of the boat deck, lowered the megaphone slowly. "The fools."

* * *

As Xever and Bradford crossed the foyer, they encountered Guggenheim and his valet, both dressed in white tie, tail-coats, and top hats. "Ben, what's the occasion?"

"We have dressed in our best and are prepared to go down like gentlemen," Guggenheim told him.

"That's admirable, Ben." He walked on. "I'll sure and tell your wife...when I get to New York."

In the first class smoking room, there were still two cardgames in progress. The room was quiet and civilized. A silver serving cart, holding a large humidor, began to roll slowly across the room. One of the cardplayers took a cigar from it as it rolled by. "It seems we've been dealt a bad hand this time."

Xever and Bradford were walking aft with a purposeful stride. They passed Chief Baker Joughin, who was working up a sweat tossing deck chairs over the rail. After they went by, Joughin took a break and pulled out a bottle of scotch from a pocket, opening it. He drained it, and tossed it over the side too, then stood there a little unsteadily.

Panic was setting in around the remaining boats aft. The crowd here was now a mix of all three classes, mutants and humans alike. Officers repeatedly warned men back from the boats. The crowd pressed in closer.

Seamen tried to stop the tiller of boat 14 to discourage a close press of men who looked ready to rush the boat. Several men broke ranks and rushed forward. Lightoller pulled out his Webley revolver and aimed it at them. "Get back! Keep order!" The men backed down. Fifth Officer Lowe stood in the boat, yelling at the crew.

"Lower left away and right!"

Lightoller turned away from the crowd and, out of their sight, broke his pistol open. Letting out a long breath, he started to load it.

Xever and Bradford arrived in time to see Jared lowering his last boat. "We're too late."

"There are still some boats forward. Stay with this one...Jared. He seems to be quite...practical," Bradford informed him.

In the water below, there was another panic. Boat 13, already in the water but still attached to its falls, was pushed aft by the discharge water being pumped out of the ship. It wound up directly under boat 15, which was coming down the right on top of it. The passengers shouted in panic to the crew above to stop lowering. They were ignored. Some men put their hands up, trying futilely to keep the 5 tons of boat 15 from crushing them.

Fred Barrett, the stoker, got out his knife and leapt to the after falls, climbing rudely over people. He cut the aft falls while another crewman cut the forward lines. 13 drifts out from beneath 15 just seconds before it touched the water with a slap.

Xever, looking down from the rail, heard gunshots.

Fifth Officer Lowe, in boat 14, was firing his gun as a warning to the bunch of men threatening to jump into the boat as it passed the open promenade on A deck. "Stay back, you lot!" The shots echoed away.

"It's starting to fall apart. We don't have much time," Xever said to Bradford. He saw three dogs run by, including the black French bulldog. Someone had released the pets from the kennels. Xever saw Jared turn from the davits of boat 15 and started walking toward the bow. He caught up and fell in beside him. "Mr. Jared, I'm a businessman, as you know, and I have a business proposition for you."

* * *

Leo, Amy, Raph, and Mikey made it to the boat deck. They looked at the empty davits, Amy's heart dropping. "The boats are gone!" She looked around for a glimmer of hope. She saw Colonel Biggles chugging forward along the deck, escorting two first class ladies. "Colonel! Are there any boats left?" Amy asked in urgency.

He stared at her bedraggled state. "Yes, miss...there are still a couple of boats all the way forward," he pointed towards the back of the ship. "This way, I'll lead you."

Leo grabbed her hand and they sprinted past Biggles, with Mikey and Raph close behind. The band was still incredibly playing, the four running by. No one was really listening.

"Music to drown by. Now I know I'm in first class," Mikey said.

* * *

Water poured like a spillway over the forward railing on B deck. On the boat deck, Jared and his team were loading a Collapsible Car the forward-most davits. There were four collapsible cars, or Engelhardts boats, including two which were stored on the roof of the officer's quarters. The crowd was sparse, with most people still aft. Xever slipped his hand out of the pocket of his overcoat and into the pocket of Jared's greatcoat, leaving the stack of bills there.

"So we have an understanding then?"

Jared nodded curtly. "As you've said."

Xever, satisfied, stepped back. He found himself waiting next to Anton Ismay. Ismay did not meet his eyes, nor anyone's. Bradford came up to Xever at that moment.

"I've found her. She's just over the port side. With him." On the inside, Xever was furious. He thought Amy was mad at that moment. Any sensible woman would choose money over loving a gutter rat, especially a mutant.

"Women and children? Any more women and children?" Jared called out and glanced at Xever. "Anyone else, then?"

Xever glanced longingly at his boat...his moment had arrived. But now he had to get Amy back. He wanted to confront her and drag her back, even if it was against her wishes. "God damn it to hell! Come on!" He and Bradford headed for the port side, taking a short cut through the bridge. Anton, seeing his opportunity, stepped quickly into collapsible C. He stared straight ahead, not meeting Jared's eyes. He just stared at them before turning to the seamen.

"Take them down."

On the port side, Lightoller was getting people into boat 2. He kept his pistol in his hand at that point. Twenty feet below them the sea was pouring into the doors and windows of B deck staterooms. They could hear the roar of water cascading into the ship. "Women and children, please! Women and children only. Step back, sir."

Even with Leo's arms still wrapped around her, Amy still shivered from the icy cold air. Near her, a woman with two young daughters looked into the eyes of a husband she knew she may not see again. The husband looked equally as devastated. To Amy, it was a heartbreaking sight.

"Goodbye for a little while...only a little while," the man said reassuringly. The two girls pleaded for their father to go with them, sobbing. "Go with mummy."

The woman stumbled into the boat with the daughters, hiding her tears from them. Beneath the false cheer, the man was choked with emotion. "Hold mummy's hand and be a good girl. That's right."

Some of the women were stoic, others were overwhelmed by emotion and had to be helped into the boats. A man scribbled a note and handed it to a woman who was about to board. "Please get this to my wife in DeMoines, Iowa."

Leo glanced at Mikey and Raph. "You better check out the other side." Mikey looked hesitant. "Go."

Mikey nodded, he and Raph running off. Leo turned to Amy and she felt a wave of fear going inside of her. "I'm not going without you."

"Get into the boat, Ames," Leo said. Xever walked up just then.

"Yes, get into the boat, Amelia." She was shocked to see him. She stepped instinctively to Leo. Xever just looked at her, standing there shivering in her wet slip and stockings, a shocking display in 1912. "My God, look at you, you look so frightened!" He took off his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. "Here, put this on."

She wasn't sure why he was being suddenly nice, she wasn't engaged to him anymore. He was probably doing it for modesty, not the cold. She didn't focus on him, Leo pulling her aside from Xever.

"Go on. I'll get the next one," Leo said.

"No. Not without you!" She answered firmly. She didn't even care that Xever was standing right there. He saw the emotion between Leo and Amy, his jaw clenching.

"Listen, I'll be alright. I'm a survivor," Leo told her reassuringly. Xever leaned in close.

"I have an arrangement with an officer on the other side of the ship. Leonardo and I can get off safely. Both of us."

Leo turned to Amy, smiling reassuringly. "See? I got my own boat to catch." He looked uncertain and Amy felt uneasy. He didn't seem so confident in what he said.

"Get in...hurry up, they're almost full," Xever gave a weak smile. Lightoller grabbed her arm, pulling her towards the boat. She reached out for Leo and her fingers brushed his for a moment. Then she found herself stepping down into the boat. It was all a rush and a blur. She felt like she was living a nightmare.

"Lower away!"

The two men watched the rail as the boat began to descend. "You're a good liar," Xever said lowly once Amy was out of earshot.

"Almost as good as you," Leo gulped a little as he looked at Amy.

"I always win, Leonardo. One way or another," Xever looked at him, smiling slightly. "Pity I didn't keep that drawing. It's going to be worth a lot more by morning."

Leo knew he was screwed. He looked down at Amy, not wanting to waste a second of his last view of her. Amy looked up at Leo, not wanting to waste a second either. But she didn't want to be separated from him even if he did make it to another lifeboat. She didn't trust Xever alone with him...not on her life. All of it seemed like slow motion to her. The ropes were going through the pulleys as the seamen started to lower. All sound went away, Lightoller giving orders as his lips were moving, but Amy couldn't hear anything else except for her heart and the blood pounding in her ears. This cannot be happening...a rocket burst above, outlining Leo in a halo of light. To her, it was the most heart-wrenching and beautiful sight at the same time...she remembered what they had been through together as her hair blew slowly. She gazed up at Leo as she descended away from him. She saw his three fingered hand trembling, the tears at the corner of her eyes, and couldn't believe the unbearable pain she was feeling...they had promised to go to New York together...but now she had to throw it all away...she was still staring up, tears pouring down her face.

Suddenly she was moving. She lunged across the woman next to her. She reached the gunwale, climbing it. She hurled herself out of the boat to the rail of the A deck promenade, catching it, and scrambling over the rail. She was supported by a couple pulling her back onto the ship. The boat continued down, but Amy was back on Titanic.

"No, Ames! NOOO!" Leo shouted.

"Stop her!" Xever yelled as she ran for it. Leo spun from the rail, running for the nearest way down to A deck. Xever had seen her jump, now knowing that she was willing to die for this...monstrosity, this gutter scum. He was overwhelmed by a rage all so consuming it eclipsed all thought.

Leo banged through the doors to the foyer, sprinting down the stairs. She didn't know how long she ran as he saw her coming into the A deck foyer, running towards him. Xever's long coat flew out behind her as she ran. They met at the bottom of the stairs, colliding into an embrace. She returned it tightly, sobbing.

"Ames, you're so stupid. You're so stupid, you're an idiot-" and all the while he was kissing her and holding her as tight as he could. He held her cheeks. "Why did you do that, Ames? Why?"

"You jump, I jump, right?" She asked as she continued crying.

"Right," he breathed.

"Oh, I couldn't do it, Leo. I couldn't go," she sobbed as he hugged her again. She was so relieved to be back in his arms again. Xever came in and ran to the railing. Looking down, he saw them locked in their embrace. Bradford came up behind Xever, putting a restraining hand on him. Xever whipped around, grabbing the pistol from Bradford's waistband in one cobra-fast move. He ran along the rail and down the stairs. As he reached the landing above them, he raised the gun. Screaming in rage, he fired and Leo saw it.

"Look out!" He moved Amy out of the way. The carved cherub at the foot of the center railing exploded. Leo pulled Amy towards the stairs going down to the next deck, the brunette instantly afraid. Xever fired again, running down the steps toward them. A bullet blew a divot out of the oak paneling behind Leo's head as he pulled Amy down the next flight of stairs.

Xever stepped out on the skittering head of the cherub statue and went sprawling. The gun clattered across the marble floor. He got up, and reeling drunkenly, went over to retrieve it.

The bottom of the grand staircase was flooded several feet deep. Leo and Amy came down the stairs two at a time, running straight into the water, fording across the room to where the floor sloped up, until they reached dry footing at the entrance to the dining saloon.

Xever reeled down the stairs in time to see Leo and Amy splashing through the water towards the dining saloon. He fired twice, big gouts of spray near them, but he wasn't a great shot.

The water boiled up around his feet and he retreated up the stairs a couple of steps. Around him the woodward groaned and creaked. "I hope you enjoy your time together!" He shouted. Bradford appeared next to him and Xever suddenly remembering something, laughing.

"What could possibly be funny?" Bradford wondered, since he just lost his ex-fiancée to a third class mutant.

"I put the diamond in my coat pocket. And I put my coat...on her. I put the coat on her!"


	19. Chapter 19

**Angel: Three more chapters left...and then the poll will end even though Sonic X has the most votes. *deadpans* What a joy that story will be...and someone suggested I do a Teen Titans story. Yeah, I'm not gonna write that...ask someone else. It's not that I don't want to, I just don't wanna be pressured into writing this like with the Sonic X story...**

They were still running for their lives, through the galley and Amy saw the stairs. She climbed up, Leo holding her hand and leaning her down, waiting if Xever was still after them. Her pulse was racing hard, the thought of what just happened still lingering in her mind. She hoped it was the last time she saw Xever.

They waited for a while, waiting to hear rushing footsteps and bullets flying, but it never came. All they could hear was each other's pounding hearts.

They heard a small cry and Amy turned. It sounded like a child. Amy took Leo's hand and went down the steps, looking along the E deck corridor. The corridor was awash, about a foot deep. Standing against the wall, about 50 feet away, was a little girl, about 3. The water swirled around her legs and she was wailing. She had a blue dress, sandy hair, and grey eyes (Aka the little girl Leo had a tea party with XD).

"We can't leave her," Amy said. Leo nodded and they ran toward the child. Leo scooped her up and they ran back to the stairs, but...

A torrent of water came pouring down the stairs like rapids. In seconds, it was too powerful for them to go against. "Come on," Leo said.

They charged the other way down the flooding corridor, blasting up spray with each footstep. At the end of the hall were heavy double doors. As Leo approached them, he saw water spraying through the gap between the doors right up to the ceiling. The doors groaned and started to crack under the tons of pressure.

"Back! Go back!" Leo yelled.

Amy pivoted and ran back the way they came, taking a turn into a cross-corridor. A man was coming the other way. He saw the girl in Leo's arms and cried out, grabbing her away from Leo. He started cursing him in Russian and ran on with the girl...

"No! Not that way! Come back!" Amy shouted. The double doors blasted open and a wall of water thundered into the corridor. The father and little girl disappeared instantly.

Leo and Amy ran as a wave blasted around the corner, foaming from floor to ceiling. It gained on them like a locomotive. They made it to a stairway going up. Amy and Leo pounded up the steps as white water swirled up behind them. Leo slammed against the gate, gripping the gate. A terrified steward standing guard on the landing above turned to run at the sight of the water thundering up the stairs.

"Wait! Wait! Help us! Unlock the gate!" Leo screamed. The steward ran on, the water welling up Leo and Amy, pouring through the gate and slamming them against it. In seconds it was up to their waist.

"Help us! Please!" Amy cried out.

The steward stopped and looked back. He saw Leo and Amy at the gate, their arms racing through...saw the water pouring through the gate onto the landing.

"Fucking 'ell!" He muttered, running back to them and slogging against the current. He pulled a key ring from his belt, struggling to unlock the padlock as the water fountained up around them. The lights shorted out and the landing was plunged in darkness. The water rose over the lock and he was doing it by feel.

"Come on, come on!" Leo explained.

"I'm sorry, I dropped the keys!" The steward said. He walked out and ran up the stairs.

"No, wait, send for help!" Amy called out. Leo took in a deep breath, going under the water and coming up seconds later.

"I got it. Which one is it?"

"The short one, try the short one!" She cried out, feeling like she could swallow water at any minute now. The water rose steadily as Leo put his hand around, trying to unlock the door.

"Hurry, Leo! Hurry!"

The lights went off and the water started to close around Amy's neck. She could barely breathe.

"Leo! Hurry! Leo!"

"I got it!"

Leo opened the door and she went through. Amy went up the stairs, Leo following her.

* * *

Xever came reeling out of the first class entrance, looking wild-eyed. The deck was lurching down towards the bridge. Waltz music wafted over the ship. Somewhere the band was still playing. A little girl, maybe two, was crying along the alcove, wanting her mother. She looked up at Xever beseechingly. Xever moved on without another glance, reaching a large crowd clustered around collapsible A just aft of the bridge. He saw Jared and a number of crewmen struggling to drag the boat to the davits, with no luck.

Nearby, Raph and Mikey were being pushed forward by the crowd behind. Purser McElroy pushed them back, getting a couple of seamen to help him. He brandished his gun, waving it in the air, yelling for the crowd to stay back.

Lightoller, with a group of crew and passengers, was trying to get collapsible B down from the roof. They slid it down a pair of oars leaned against the deck house. "Hold it! Hold it!" The weight of the boat snapped the oars and it crashed onto the deck, upside down. Two men jumped back as the boat nearly hit them.

Leo and Amy ran up seemingly endless stairs as the ship groaned and torqued around them.

Jared, at collapsible A, was no longer in control. The crowd was threatening to rush the boat. They pushed and jostled, yelling and shouting at the officers. The pressure from behind pushed them forward, and one guy fell off the edge of the deck into the water less than ten feet below.

"Give us a chance to live, you limey bastards!" Mikey shouted. Jared fired his Webley twice in the air, then pointed it at the crowd.

"I'll shoot any man who tries to get past me!" He declared, Xever running up to him.

"Bastard!" Mikey yelled at him.

"We had a deal, damn you!" Jared threw the bills into his face.

"Your money can't save you anymore than it can save me..." He pushed Xever back, pointing the pistol at him. "Get back!" A man tried to climb over, Jared shooting him in the leg. Mikey was pushed forward by another man and Jared shot him in the chest. Everyone fell silent and Raph grabbed him in his arms.

"Mikey!" He turned to Jared. "Bastardo!" Mikey's life flew out over the deck. Jared looked in horror as he just killed an innocent life. He turned to his men and saluted, putting the gun to his temple.

"Jared!" He dropped like a puppet with the strings cut and toppled over the edge of the boat deck into the water just a few feet below. Xever stared in horror at Jared's body bobbing in the black water. The crew rushed to get the last woman aboard the boat.

"Any more women or children?!" McElroy called out over the confusion.

Xever scooped up the girl crying in the alcove, running forward as he cradled her in his arms. He forced his way through the crowd. "I have a child! I have a child!" He made it to McElroy. "Please...I'm all she has in the world."

McElroy nodded curtly and pushed him into the boat. A woman took the little girl from Xever and McElroy spun with his gun, brandishing it in the air to keep the other men back. Xever got into the boat, holding the little girl. He took a seat with the women. "There, there."

* * *

Slash stood in front of the fireplace in the first class smoking room, staring at the large painting above the mantle. The fire was still going in the fireplace. The room was empty except for him. An ashtray fell off the table. Behind him Leo and Amy ran into the room, out of breath and soaked. They ran through, toward the aft revolving door before Amy recognized him. She saw that his lifebelt was off, lying on a table.

"Won't you even make a try for it, Mr. Andrews?" She asked, stepping closer. A tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Amelia," he answered forlornly. He picked up his lifebelt and handed it to her. "Good luck to you, Amelia." Amy hugged him.

"And to you, Mr. Andrews." Leo pulled her away and they ran through the revolving door.


	20. Chapter 20

**Angel: Welp...next week this story ends along with the poll...joy...I'm not really looking forward to recounting the votes, because I already know what story is in the lead -_- *sighs* I shouldn't be surprised, though. Starfire, I think you started a Sonic X trend or something.**

The band finished their waltz. Wallace Hartley looked at the orchestra members. "Right, that's it then." They left him, walking forward along the deck. Hartley put his violin to his chin and bowed the first notes of 'Nearer My God to Thee.' One by one the band members returned, hearing the lonely melody. Without a word, they walked back to him and took their places. They joined in with Hartley, filling out the sound so that it reached all over the ship on the still night.

A seamen pulled off his lifebelt and caught up to Captain Splinter as he walked to the bridge. He offered it, but Splinter seemed to stare right through him. Without anything, he turned and went onto the bridge. He entered the enclosed warehouse and closed the door. He was alone, surrounded by the gleaming brass equipment. He seemed to inwardly collapse.

In the first class smoking room, Slash stood like a statue. He pulled out his pocketwatch and checked the time. Then he opened the face of the mantle clock and adjusted it to the correct time: 2:12 am. Everything must be correct.

Two figures laid side by side, fully clothed, on a bed in a first class cabin. Elderly Ida and Kirby stared at the ceiling, holding hands like young lovers. He kissed his wife on the cheek as water poured into the room through a doorway. It swirled around the bed, two feet deep rising fast.

In a steerage cabin, somewhere in the bowels of the ship, the young Irish mother is tucking her two young children into bed. She pulled up the covers, making sure they're warm and cozy. She lied down with them, speaking soothingly. "And then they lived happily together for 300 years. In eternal love and eternal youth..."

In Xever's suite, water swirled in from the private promenade deck. Amy's paintings were submerged. The Picasso transformed under the water's surface. Degas' colors ran. Monet's water lilies came to life.

They continued playing as passengers ran past them, a wave traveling up the boat deck as the bridge house sunk into the water. Raph took off Mikey's lifebelt, looking up at the people running from the water. The little girl that Xever was holding watched in horror at the chaos. On the port side, collapsible B was picked up by water. Working frantically, the men tried to detach it from the falls so the ship wouldn't drag it under.

"There's no time! Cut it! Cut it if you have to!"

"I need a knife! I need a knife!"

Raph struggled to put on the bloody lifebelt. He took out a pocket knife, trying to help as best as he can. Xever handed the little girl to a woman, watching his whole plan go terribly wrong. He scooted up to the top, watching as the passengers struggled to move. The men worked, scrambling to get the boat uncut.

In the grand staircase, water had started to sweep. Guggenheim just stared in fear.

Some men fell in the water. Wallace Hartley just watched the waves as they rolled rapidly up the deck towards them. "Gentlemen, it has been a privilege playing with you tonight."

Captain Splinter, standing near the wheel, watched the black water climbing the windows of the enclosed windows of the enclosed wheelhouse. He had the stricken expression of damned sould on Judgement Day as he heard creaks. The windows suddenly burst and a wall of water edged with shards of glass slamming into Splinter. He disappeared in a vortex of foam.

The area around the collapsible became a frenzy of splashing, screaming people as Raph fell into the water. Xever grabbed a rope, climbing up as people tried to swamp into the boat. Xever grabbed an oar and pushed them back into the water.

"Get back! You'll swamp the boat!" People started running up to the stern as an attempt to save themselves, others falling into the water.

The grand staircase room had become flooded, people in lifebelts trying to swim for their life. Leo and Amy made it into the palm court and into a dense and panicked crowd. Everything felt so different now, it was like a ticking bomb ready to go off...Leo proceeded to guide Amy to the railing.

John Astor looked at all the panic, people screaming as they tried to move through the increasing water. One of the windows broke, sucking some men inside the room. Raph was one of them, the force of the tons of water trapping him against it. He managed to get out, swimming the other way.

"I got you, jump!" Leo called out, Amy falling into a heap when she went over the railing. A man helped her get to her feet.

"I've got you, miss!" Leo dropped down to her, the two pushed through the crowd across the well deck.

"Back!" Xever yelled, trying to get the people away from the boat.

Raph continued to swim until there was a snap nearby. The cables holding up the funnel started to snap, lashing like steel whips down into the water. Xever watched as the funnel toppled from its mounts. Falling like a temple pillar twenty eight feet across, it whomped into the water with a tremendous splash. Unfortunately, Raph and the other people swimming underneath it disappeared in an instant...Xever continued to keep people off the boat.

Astor looked just in time to see the 30 foot glass doe overhead explode inward with the wave of water washing over it. A Niagara of sea water thundered down into the room, blasting through the first class opulence. It was the Armageddon of elegance. The people inside struggled for breath. The flooding was horrific. Walls and doors splintered like kindling. Water roared down corridors with pile driver force. The stern continued lifting in the air, people falling into the water. The lights started to flicker. Leo ran through the crowd, making sure he kept his hold on Amy. Her blood ran cold when she heard people scream as they fall and saw some plunging into the deathly cold water. The ship groaned loudly and shuddered, Amy's mouth completely dry. There was a man ahead of Leo, walking in a slow pace like a zombie.

"As I walk through the valley of the shadow of the death-"

"You wanna walk a little faster through that valley, fella?" Leo asked, nudging the man to go faster. They struggled to their way up the furthest they could go as Amy saw different people huddled together. Hundreds of people were already at the poop deck, more coming every second. Leo and Amy held onto each other as they struggled across the tilting deck. It wasn't easy as the angle of the ship increased towards the blackened sky, hundreds of passengers clinging to their life to every fixed object there was on the deck. They heard a prayer, turning to see people praying and crying for what was going to come as the man continued to speak.

"Father, pray for our sinners now and at the hour of our death, amen. Hail Mary, full of grace, lord is with me."

"This way!" Leo guided Amy forward. As the bow went down, the stern rose.

"The first Heaven and the first Earth have passed away," the man clung onto an object. "And there was no more sea..." As he drowned on, Amy and Leo had made it to the stern rail, right at the base of the flagpole. They gripped the rail, jammed in between other people. It was the spot where Leo pulled her back onto the ship, just two nights ago...and a lifetime...Amy saw a young mother next to her, clutching her son who was crying in terror.

"It'll be over soon. It'll all be over soon."

Amy glanced to her right, seeing the Dahl family clinging to each other stoically. Mona looked at her briefly, her eyes infinitely sad.

"Leo," she looked up at him. "This is where we met."

Leo stared at her and kissed her forehead, rubbing her arm as an attempt to warm her up. The ship continued rising in the air, people climbing over the back rails and leaping into the water. Her heart was beating a million times per minute. She could hear people screaming and clanging as people were hit as they fell against the railing.

"And God shall wipe away all the tears from their eyes...and there shall be no more death. Neither shall there be sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain; for the former world has passed away..."

A body floated in the water in the boat deck foyer as it was flooded, meaning all of the people in there were dead...

As the ship tilted further, everything not bolted down inside shifted. Cupboards burst open in the pantry, showering the floor with tons of china.

"Bloody pull faster! And pull!" An officer ordered the boat passengers. People started sliding off from the rail, Leo struggling for breath as he looked at the sight. Furniture tumbled across the smoking room floor.

"Hang on, Miss Ann!" But she slipped, sliding away with a scream. Panicking, people leap from the poop deck rail, falling and screaming as they hit the water like mortar rounds. One of them fell from the poop deck, hitting the bronze hub of the starboard propeller with a sickening smack. Swimmers looked up as they see the stern towering over them like a monolith, the propellers rising against the stars. 110 feet. 120. Joughin took out his flash, taking a sip. Amy clung onto the rail.

"Hold on real tight," Leo wrapped himself around her as she had a terrified look on her face.

* * *

On boat 6, Nadia and the others listened to the sounds of the dying ship and the screaming people coming across the water. Her lights blazing, reflecting in the still water. Its stern was high in the air, angles up over 45 degrees. The propellers were 150 feet out of the water. Over a thousand passengers clung to the decks, looking from a distance like a swarm of bees.

The image was shocking...unbelievable...unthinkable...Nadia stared at the spectacle, unable to frame it or put it in any proportion.

"God Almighty," Irma murmured. Anton turned his back to the ship, unable to watch the great steamer die. He was catatonic with remorse, his mind overloaded. He could avert his eyes, but he couldn't block out the sounds of dying people and machinery.

* * *

The chief engineer hung onto a pipe in the engine room. "Get those breakers in!" Around him men climbed through tilted cyclopean machines with electric hand-torches. Water sprayed down, hitting the breaker panel, but they wouldn't leave their posts. Electricity flicked before there was a blast of light.

The lights went out all over the ship. Titanic became a vast black silhouette against the stars. Amy was more afraid now because the reality of dying was real, and no help was coming. If it wasn't for the fear overwhelming her, she would be crying an ocean.

A few moments later, there was a thunderous sickening snapping sound and the deck was splitting. A man clutched the ship's rail as it was appearing right between his feet. A yawning chasm opened with a thunder of breaking steel. Bradford was clutching the railing with an unexplained injury near his head, which was bleeding. He watched in horror as the ship's structure ripped apart right in front of him. He gaped down into a widening maw, seeing straight down the bowels of the ship, amid a booming conclusion like the sound of artillery. People fell into the widening crevasse, looking like dolls.

Fires, explosions, and sparks lighted the yawning chasm as the hull split down through nine decks to the keel. The stern aft of the ship, almost four hundred feet long, fell back towards the water. Everyone screamed as they felt themselves plummeting. Leo and Amy struggled to hold onto the stern rail as they felt the ship right itself. One of the funnels fell right off.

Now the horrible mechanics played out. Pulled down by the weight of the flooded bow, the buoyant stern tilted up rapidly. They felt the rush of the ascent as the fantail angled up again. Everyone was clinging to benches, railings, ventilators...anything to keep themselves from sliding as the stern lifted.

It went up and up, past 45 degrees, then sixty. People started to fall, sliding and tumbling. They slid down the deck, screaming and flailing to grab onto something. They wrench other people loose and pull them down as well. There was a pile-up on bodies at the forward rail.

"We have to move!" Leo climbed over the stern rail and reached back for Amy. She was terrified to move. He grabbed her hand. "Come on, I've got you!" Leo pulled her over the rail. It was the same place he pulled her over the rail two nights earlier, going the other direction. She got over just as the railing went horizontal, the deck going vertical. Leo gripped her fiercely.

The stern was now straight up in the air...a rumbling black monolith standing against the stars. It hung there like that for a long grace note, its buoyancy stable. Amy lay onto the railing, looking down fifteen stories to the cold sea as people fell, some who were clinging to the rail plummeting to the sea. Her heart leapt faster as she realized how high they were. Some had unfortunately hit and bounced off the deck benches.

"Hold on!" Leo shouted.

"Leo!" Amy cried.

"Ames!"

"Help me! Please, someone help me!"

People fell one by one, plummeting down the vertical face of the poop deck. Some of them bounced horribly off deck benches and ventilators. Mona looked up at Amy until she couldn't hold on anymore, falling to her death. Amy glanced at Joughin, her cold breath showing. There was suddenly a creak as the final restless plunge began, the stern starting to flood.

"This is it!" Leo shouted. "Take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don't let go of my hand. We're gonna make it, Ames. Trust me." She stared at the water coming up at them, gripping his hand harder.

"I trust you."

Below them the poop deck was disappearing. The plunge gathered speed...the boiling surface engulfing the docking bridge and then rushing up the last thirty feet. The stern descended into the boiling sea. The name Titanic disappeared.

"Ready? Now!" They took deep breaths, their tiny figures of Leo and Amy vanishing under the water. The water felt like a thousand knives stabbing all over her body.

Titanic...was dead...


	21. Chapter 21

**Angel: This is the second to last chapter before I will officially end the poll from my profile. I don't know how many votes Sonic X has, but I honestly do not feel like counting them. Just looking at them reminds me of how much I DIDN'T want to write it so soon. Tomorrow the poll will end and whichever story wins will be posted next weekend.**

She never felt so cold until now. Her hand was holding onto Leo. She opened her eyes and kicked her legs to reach for the surface as the vortex tries to pull them down. It might've been easy for Leo to breathe, but not Amy. It was incredibly difficult for her to reach the surface when she saw Leo was pulled down and his hand slipped from hers. Her heart plummeted and she tried to find him again drifting down. She was frightened of the idea going down to reach him. She couldn't see anything so she reached for him but she felt nothing except pin from the deathly cold water attacking her.

She had to reach the surface for herself otherwise she would die. She kicked for the surface and just as soon as she did, she took a deep breath. It was a rolling chaos of screaming, thrashing people. Over a thousand people were now floating where the ship went down. She heard hundreds of cries, shouting, screaming, praying, moaning, and pleas that she could never forget. Others were stunned, gasping for breath. It was permanently scarred in her memory.

The cold water felt like it was trying to kill her. She could almost not feel her body. She turned around, looking for Leo. She hoped to God that he was alive.

"Leo! Leo! Leo!" She screamed, searching frantically for him.

She looked everywhere for him, hoping and praying that he was alive. But there was not a single sign of him. It was hard to recognize him because of the thousand people as she continued to cry out for him. She swam, trying to find Leo or least a least a piece of wreckage.

"Leo!" She yelled. She heard someone breathing and she turned just in time to see a man struggling to stay afloat when he suddenly climbed on her. Her heart was racing with panic and she was forced under the water. She struggled to get the man off her. She tried to wrench his hands off her but he had a steel grip.

She jumped and screamed. "NO!" She was thrust down in the water again and she kicked against the man, desperate to be free.

"Let her go!" Leo suddenly came out of nowhere, punching the man in the face as Amy surfaced. He turned to her. "I need you to swim, Ames! Swim!"

She tried but luckily Leo pulled her. They swam through the crowd of people. She didn't know if she was going to survive, but if anyone was going to make it out of here, for Leo, it was Ames. She was so young and needed to live her life. He loved her, he had to let her live...she was a survivor, his love, his everything.

"Keep swimming. Keep moving. Come on, Ames, you can do it," he reassured her. She could barely hear him when all there was loud screaming and wailing of tortured souls. It cut her like a knife to hear a thousand of people dying in the cold, black water. The sense of isolation and despair was so overwhelming. "Look for something to float on. Some debris...wood...anything."

She sniffled. "It's so cold."

"I know," Leo said reassuringly. "I know, but look around..."

She looked around for something to float on. They continued swimming, looking for something to float on when Leo saw something. It was a piece of debris and they swam towards it. She recognized it was a door from the First Class lobby.

"Get on, Ames." She managed to get on. Leo tried to get on it, but it tilted and submerged, Amy sliding off it. Leo leapt off from the door.

"Stay on it. Stay on, Ames," Leo told her as she got back on.

"Leo," she murmured, knowing that he could die if he stayed in the water.

"You'll be alright now. You'll be alright now," he told her, silently telling her to stay on the debris. Minutes passed and it had proven to be hard to survive than to die. She thought of all of the deceased people. She didn't pity because they were free from the pain. She pitied the living because they struggled to survive.

Her hair dried, ice forming in her hair. Her body was so cold she could barely feel anything. She glanced at Leo, who was looking around. "T-The b-boats will c-come back for us, A-Ames. Hold on j-just a little l-longer. They...had to row away from t-the suction and now they'll b-be coming back."

She was trembling at this point, trying to talk but it hurt. She nodded, her teeth chattering. She heard people still screaming, calling for the lifeboats to come.

* * *

At boat one, they listened to the people crying out for help. "We should do something," Firemen Hendrickson explained. Lady Duff-Gordon glanced at her husband, squeezing his hand as she pleaded with her eyes. She was terrified.

"It's out of the question." That didn't mean they didn't feel guilty, though, hoping the screaming would stop soon...

At boat 6, Nadia listened to the screams against the darkness. She closed her eyes.

"You don't understand," Hitchens told Irma. "If we go back, they'll swamp the boat! They'll pull us right down I'm telling ya!"

"Knock it off," she stood up. "You're scaring me. C'mon, girls! Grab an oar, let's go!" Nobody moved an inch.

"Are you out of your mind? We're in the middle of the North Atlantic! Now do you people wanna live or do you wanna die?" The officer asked. Irma glanced at everyone, but they won't let up.

"I don't understand a one of ya. What's a matter with ya? It's your men out there!" One of them started crying in guilt. "There's plenty a room for more."

"And there'll be one less on this boat...if you don't shut that hole in your face!" He threatened. Nadia kept her eyes closed at the distant screams and whistles, shutting it all out. Irma sat back down reluctantly.

* * *

Fifth Officer Lowe, the impetuous young Welshman, had gotten some boats and a collapsible together, transferring passengers from 14 to the others, to empty his boat for a rescue attempt. "Now bring in your oars over there. Tie these two boats together as well. Now make sure that's tied up nice and tight." Lowe looked at the screaming people before turning to the others.

"Right! Listen to me, men! We have to go back! I wanna transfer all the women from this boat into that boat right now as quick as you can, please! Let's get some space over there. Forward and aft!"

* * *

Amy noticed as minutes passed by, it was getting quieter. She shifted to look at Leo, who rubbed her arms. His face was chalk within the darkness. There was a low moaning in the darkness around them.

"It's getting quiet," she whispered. She had lost hope...she didn't believe she was going to make it out of here. She was going to die...if she was to die, she would die happy. She'd die next to Leo, happy that she met him and fallen in love with him...at least they'd be together...

"Just a few more minutes. It'll take them a while to get the boats organized..."

She couldn't move, just staring at him. She knew he was trying to comfort her, but it didn't make her any happy because of the fact he was still in the water. Turtles were cold-blooded, Leo wouldn't last any longer...behind Leo she saw that Officer Wilde, the one who was blowing the whistle, had stopped moving. He was slumped in his life-jacket, looking almost asleep. He had died of exposure.

"I don't know about you. But I intend to w-write a strongly-worded letter to the White Star Line about all this," Leo said, the two giving a weak smile to each other. She wanted to laugh, but everything was so cold...

"I love you, Leo," she said, finding his eyes in the dim light. He looked at her, his smile faltering.

"No...don't you do that. Don't say your good-byes. Not yet. D-Do you understand me?" He knew he didn't say it back, but he had to be strong for her. But he needed some way to tell her that he loved her too. And if he had to be strong to do that, then he would.

"I'm so cold," tears came to her eyes.

"Listen, Ames...you're going to make it out of here. You're going to go on, and you're going to make lots of babies, and you're going to watch them grow. You're going to die an old...an old lady, warm in her bed. Not here. Not this night. Not like this. D-Do you understand me?" He said, his voice trembling but his eyes were determined on her. Hot tears escaped from the brim of her eyes. She was touched by what Leo said...it sounded nice to do those things. It was what she had wanted...to grow up, find a man to love, get married and have children...

"I can't feel my body..." Her throat was starting to hurt as she closed her eyes a little.

"Winning that ticket, Ames, was the b-best t-thing that ever happened to m-me. It brought me to you...I love you, and I'm thankful for that, Ames. I'm thankful." She started crying at his beautiful words. "You must...you must...you must do me this honor...you must promise me that you'll survive...that you won't give up, no matter what happens...no matter how...hopeless...Promise me now, Ames...and never let go of that promise."

She nodded. "I promise."

"Never let go," he gripped her hand.

"I promise. I will never let go, Leo. I'll never let go..." She gripped his hand back as she shivered. He leaned in and kissed her briefly, both of them shivering as they were both terrifyingly cold.


	22. Chapter 22

**Angel: Good morning everyone! I forgot to bring this up, but I didn't get the chance to type for other stories last week, which is why I couldn't update them. I will update them later on this week, along with the story that won the poll, which is...*reads off a paper* Sonic X...why am I not surprised...so that officially ends the poll. I will put up a poll regarding the 2018 reboot coming out, but only AFTER I watch the first episode in September. So no asking me if I'll do it or not, and no asking me what I'd do with Amy because I'm not having it. If you want me to write that one, WAIT until I've watched the episode in September for the poll on that. Not before, and not after. I'll also put a poll regarding movie fics later on in the year. Also, I typed this in December, which was the 20th year mark that Titanic came out.**

The beam of an electric torch played across the water like a searchlight as boat 14 came towards what was left of the crowd. The torch illuminated floating debris, a poignant trail of flotsam: a violin, a child's wooden soldier, a framed photo of a steerage family. Marvin's wooden Biograph camera. Then, the white lifebelts were bobbing in the darkness like signposts...the first bodies came into the torch's beam. Most of the people...were dead...not by drowning, but by the freezing water. Some looked like they were sleeping. Others stared with frozen eyes at the stars. Some bodies were so thick the seamen couldn't row.

"More ahead, sir!"

"Oars!" The seamen lifted the oars so they wouldn't hit the people. "Do you see any moving?"

"No, sir. None moving, sir."

"Check them," Lowe ordered, not wanting to dismiss it so quickly. One of them could be barely alive. "Bring that oar up here." They glanced at the non-moving bodies. "Check and make sure." One of them lifted the body of the Irish woman who was kind to Amy slightly, dropping her.

"These are dead, sir."

"They'll give way. Ahead easy." Lowe waved his flashlight around. "Careful with your oars. Don't hit them. Is there anyone alive out there?! Can anyone hear me?" If anyone did, it was either unheard or faint due to the weather. "Is anyone alive out there?" Lowe saw a woman floating in her arms frozen around her lifeless baby...seeing that was the worst moment of Lowe's life. "We waited too long...well, keep checking them! Keep looking! Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?"

He heard foreign shouting ahead, pointing his flashlight. "Down here!"

"I see him! Row, row, row! Put your backs into it!"

He called out in a foreign language, using one of the doors to hold himself up. "I see him! Put your backs into it!" He held out his hand before remembering that the door would tilt. He steadied himself. "Hold water! Bring him in! Help him up!" They pulled him into the boat. "Cover him with those blankets! Keep him warm."

"Get some blankets up here," they covered him in blankets.

* * *

Amy didn't know how much time had passed since the sinking. It could've been seconds, minutes, or even an hour...she didn't count how many seconds had passed. Amy laid there, cold and numb. Her hair and clothes were iced, dry from the freezing water as she clutched Leo's hand. The stars reflected in the mill pond surface, and the two of them seemed to be floating in interstellar space. They were absolutely still, hands locked together. Amy stared up at the canopy of stars wheeling above her. The music was transparent, floating...as the long sleep stole over Amy, and she felt peace. Her face was pale, like the faces of the dead. She seemed to be floating in a void, in a semi-hallucinatory state. She knew she was dying. If she closed her eyes, she wouldn't open them. While the stars were a sight to behold, her throat was starting to get sore from her singing.

"Come Josephine...in my flying...machine..." The Milky Way was a glorious band from horizon to horizon. A shooting star flared, a line of light across the heavens. Her breathing was so shallow, she was almost motionless. Her eyes tracked down from the stars to the water.

She turned with difficulty, the ice plastered in her hair onto the door. She saw that there was a boat and a strange noise coming from it, as if a man was calling out for survivors. But it sounded slow and distorted...the lookout flashed his flashlight towards her, the light flaring across the water as the silhouetting the bobbing corpses in between. It flicked past her motionless form and moved on. The boat was 50 feet away, moving past her. The men looked away. "Leo," she shook her hand slightly. She then shook his arm.

Amy lifted her head to turn to Leo. Her hair was frozen to the wood under her. "Leo," her voice was barely audible as she shook Leo's shoulder with her free hand. He doesn't respond. "Leo," she tried shaking him some more as he looked to be sleeping. She turned to the boat, which was still on lookout. "Leo...there's a boat! Leo."

Amy could only look at his still face as the realization went through her. She let out a breath of cold air as she continued shaking his arm. "Leo. Leo? Leo! Leo," she started to cry, not wanting to believe it. "There's a boat, Leo! Leo?"

But it was too late. Leo had died...(A/N: Of hypothermia XD) The boat started to leave as Amy whimpered, all hope, will, and spirit leaving her. The boat seemed further away now, the voices fainter. She rested her head back on the door, silently crying. She closed her eyes. She was so weak, and there just seemed to be no reason to even try.

And then...her eyes snapped open. She raised her head suddenly. "Come back...come back." The ice cracked as she ripped her hair off the wood. "Come back!" She called out. "Come back." Her voice was so weak, they couldn't hear her. The boat was invisible now, the torch lighting a star impossibly so far away. She struggled to draw breath, calling again. "Come back. Come back! Come back!"

Lowe heard nothing behind him. "Hello?! Can anyone hear me?!"

"There's nothing there, sir."

"Come back!" Amy kept calling out. "Come back!" She struggled to move. Her hand, she realized, was actually frozen to Leo's. She breathed on it, melting the ice a little. She gently unclasped their hands, breaking away a thin tinkling film.

"I won't let go. I promise," she whispered as she kissed his hand, letting him go...he sunk into the black water, seeming to fade out like a spirit returning to some immaterial plane...Amy sobbed as all of their dreams wouldn't become reality. She then remembered the promise she made to Leo and she wanted to hold onto it.

Amy rolled off the door, plunging into the icy water. She swam to Chief Officer Wilde's body, grabbing his whistle. She started to blow on it with all of the strength in her body. Its sound slapped across the still water.

Lowe whipped around at the sound of the whistle. "Come about!"

Amy kept blowing as the boat came to her. She was still blowing as the light shined in her face...

 _Present_

The sound echoes in Amy's ears as she opens her eyes. "Fifteen hundred people went into the sea when Titanic sank from under us. There were twenty boats floating nearby and only one came back. Six were saved from the water, myself included. Six out of fifteen hundred."

Lily, Donnie, Stockman, Casey, and Tyler...the reality of what happened here 84 years before hits them like never before. With her story, Amy has put them on Titanic in its final hours, and for the first time, they do feel like graverobbers.

Donnie, for the first time, has even forgotten to ask about the diamond.

"Afterward, the seven hundred people in the boats had nothing to do but wait...wait to die, wait to live, wait for an absolution which would never come."

 _April 15th, 1912_

One boat and then another...they both had faces we all know among the survivors...Anton in a trance, just staring and trembling...Xever, sipping from a hip flask offered to him by a black-faced stoker...Nadia hugging herself, rocking gently.

Amy lay swaddled, only her face visible, which was as white as the moon. To her, everything was silent and slow motion. Lowe waved a green flare in the air. Amy doesn't react. She floated beyond all human emotion.

Golden light washed across the white boats, which gloat in a calm sea reflecting the rosy sky. All around them, like a flotilla of sailing ships, were icebergs. The Carpathia sat nearby as boats row toward her. Amy looked at the sky, remembering her and Leo's first kiss on what was once Titanic...it made her want to cry, but she wouldn't. She had to be strong for Leo...even if he wasn't with her anymore...

A little while later, she opened her eyes. She must've dozed off for a few minutes, because now the letters of the ship's name was visible on the bow. Her face was blank as seamen helped survivors up the rope ladder to the Carpathia's gangway doors. Two women were crying and hugging each other inside the ship. It was all silence and slow motion to Amy regardless. There was only music, so gentle and sad...part elegy, part hymn, part aching song of love lost forever.

Amy, outside of time, outside of herself...she was barely even able to stand as she came into Carpathia.

Anton Ismay climbed aboard, having the face and eyes of a damned soul. As he walked along the hall, guided by a crewman towards the doctor's cabin, he passed rows of seated and standing widows. He must run the gauntlet of their accusing gazes.

Amy got covered in warm blankets, given a cup of hot tea.

* * *

It was the afternoon of the 15th, Xever searching the faces of the widows lining the deck, looking for Amy. The deck of Carpathia was crammed with huddled people, and even the recovered lifeboats of Titanic. On a hatch cover sat an enormous pile of lifebelts. He kept walking towards the stern. Seeing Xever's tux, a steward approached him.

"You won't find any of your people back here, sir. It's all steerage." Xever ignored him, going amongst this wrecked group, looking under shawls and blankets at one bleak face after another. Widowed women were describing their husbands, pleading for their location. Amy heard his footsteps as he walked right past her, her face only visible in her blankets. She glanced at him as he looked around for her, turning away. She looked back to see him walking away.

 _Present_

"That was the last time I ever saw him. He married, of course, and inherited his millions. But the crash of 29 hit his interests hard, and he put a pistol in his mouth that year. His children fought over the scraps of his estate like hyenas, or so I read," Amy recalls.

 _April 18th, 1912_

On the railing of Carpathia, Amy glanced up at the Statue of Liberty, looking just as it was described by Raph, welcoming her home with her glowing torch. It was just as Raph saw it, so clearly, in his mind. She was covered in a woolen shawl, immigration officers asking questions about the survivors in the rain. She was the only one without an umbrella, not that she wanted one as she was focused on her environment. One of the officers walked up to her.

"Can I get your name, please, love?"

She turned to him. "Hamato. Amelia Hamato," she looked back up at the sky. He thanked her as he left. Amelia DeWitt Bukater had died on the Titanic. She couldn't carry that name anymore because she didn't want Xever or her mother to find her. It was best this way.

 _Present_

"We never found anything on Leonardo. There's no record of him at all," Stockman says, feeling sorry for this woman. Donnie, on the other hand, is shocked. He never heard of a Leonardo...and yet, Amy's story proves that he was a turtle like him...

"No, there wouldn't be, would there? And I've never spoken of him until now, not to anyone." She turns to Lily. "Not even your grandfather," Lily smiles a little. "A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you all know that there was a turtle named Leonardo Hamato, and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved," she closes her eyes. "I don't even have a picture of him. He exists now only in my memory..." she smiles at Donnie. "I can see a little bit of him in you, Donatello, even if you're not related to him."

"I...I-I could be," he stammers, though he wasn't sure. "I'll look in every record to see if he really is my ancestor..."

* * *

Later that night, Mir Two is going back to the surface, ordered by Donnie himself. As he stands with Lily at the rail, he decides to let her know his decision. "You know, I was saving this for when I found the diamond." He blows a cigar in his mouth before throwing it into the water. A man gives instructions over the PDA.

"I'm sorry," Lily tells him, turning to the turtle.

"Three years I've thought of nothing except Titanic, but I never got it. I never let it in...and I'm not going to. I'm going to keep the legacy of Titanic by not looking for it...your grandmother taught me a valuable lesson, Lily. She taught me about true beauty...and showed me something I never thought was possible until now. And I thank her for that."

Speaking of, the old Amy walks onto the deck, her dress flowing in the wind. Her feet are bare, her hands clutched to her chest as if she was praying. She places a hand on the railing, stepping up to look over the water. She has something in her hand, something she is about to drop overboard.

The Heart of the Ocean.

 _A younger Amy felt something in her pockets. She pulled out the necklace, staring at it in amazement. The hardest part of about being so poor, was being so rich. Every time she thought about selling it, she thought of Xever. And somehow she always got by without his help._

She holds it out over the water, and with an impish little grin, Amy tosses it over the rail. She smiles, looking up over the stars as her past life is now gone...the diamond sinks, twinkling end over end, in the indefinite depths.

In Amy's room, carefully arranged pictures can be seen on her dresser. Amy as a young actress in California, radiant...a theatrically lit studio publicly shot...Amy and her late husband, with their two children...Amy with her son at his college graduation...Amy with her children and grandchildren at her 70th birthday. She even did the stuff she was talking about with Leo when he met her mother. Amy lies in her bed, not moving. She did it...

She kept her promise to Leo...

The wreck of Titanic looms like a ghost out of the dark. It is lit by a kind of moonlight, a light of the mind. Passing over the endless forecastle, to the deck, and to the superstructure, subs move faster than they can move...almost like they're flying.

Inside, the echoing sound of distant waltz music is heard. The rust fades away from the walls of the dark corridor and it is transformed...back to the way it was. The grand staircase is lit by a glowing chandelier. The music is vibrant now, and the room is populated by men in tie and tails, women in gowns. It is exquisitely beautiful. Marie, Mikey, Raph, Ann, Mona, and Mr. Andrews are all there.

Going up the staircase, Leo is standing in front of the clock, shell turned. He turns and smiles, holding his hand out. Amy takes it, now back in her 17 year old self. They stand face to face as they smile and Amy leans in. Leo leans in the most and their lips finally come back together after 84 years. They put their loving arms around each other as the people start to clap.

Now, she could live her real life with Leo, in heaven.

 **I dedicate this entire story to the people who lost their lives on Titanic, as it's been 20 years since the movie came out. I loved doing this story and I will try to do more movies in the summer that you people have asked me for. *coughs* Turtles Forever and the 2007 movie. *cough cough* And yeah, I know that it's up to the viewers to decide if Rose died or not, but I say she died. She wasn't moving, after all.**


End file.
